


Stardust

by JackyJango



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles is a Sweetheart, Class Differences, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is a Sweetheart, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, clueless idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango
Summary: When Charles Xavier, Erik's long-suffering-total opposite- best friend gets dumped by his boyfriend, Erik makes a pact with him, that he'll marry Charles if he's still single even after a decade.I, Charles Francis Xavier, agree to marry Erik Magnus Lehnsherr if I'm not otherwise married or in a committed relationship as of ten years from today, star-dated- 2020:08:007Nearly a decade later, Erik will do anything to see Charles with a man who's worthy of him.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can't BELIEVE that I'm actually posting this fic! ARGHHHH!!!  
Buckets of blood and sweat has gone into it folks and I'm not even exaggerating. Sleepless nights and spell checks as well, but that's beyond the point... dfgfhgbjmklx
> 
> The premise of the fic is based on a movie called 'The Ten Year Plan', but the story is completely different, so you can still read the fic without knowing a thing about the movie.
> 
> The art for this fic has been posted **[here](https://ournextdoorneighbor.tumblr.com/post/188638024118/i-charles-francis-xavier-agree-to-marry-erik)**!!! Please give it loads of love, because it's just AMAZING!!!
> 
> A huge shout out to the following people:  
1\. My artist, **[ournextdoorneighbor](https://ournextdoorneighbor.tumblr.com)** for putting up with me and my antics throughout, encouraging me and believing in the story! XD  
2\. The amazing **[ireneadonovan](https://ireneadonovan.tumblr.com)** for the beta! :)  
3\. The BUNTABULOUS **[rei](https://irelise.tumblr.com)** for looking at my work through a microscope and **[Nani](https://fatcatsarecats.tumblr.com)** for draping a blanket over my shoulders every time I fell ill <3
> 
> Damn! Sometimes you can't see what's right in front of you (Just like our boys here)!!  
But in all seriousness, this AU is very close to me heart and I have written this fic with a lot of love!!! <3
> 
> I'll post 1 or more chapters everyday till the end of this month, so I hope you guys enjoy the story!  
Cheers! :D

_ You have an incoming message _ , Erik's lynk-pad chirps on the table. As cheap as the gadget had come, the damned thing doesn't even announce the sender's name. Any other time Erik would have let the message rot in his inbox, but the message could be from Charles, who had said something about going on a date when he'd called Erik earlier in the day.  
'Read it,' he orders the bot absently.  
_ Erik _, comes the robot's clipped voice.

Bloody hell. Erik knows what this is about even before the second messages come in-- which always does. He stops the welding gun that had been quietly melting the joints of a sensor into Magneto’s metal hull and quickly dismounts it from the robotic arm. 

_ You have an incoming message _, his lynk-pad chirps a moment later.

Erik doesn't have to read its contents to know what it says. He ignores it for the time being in favour of finding Azazel. 

Az is in the adjoining room fixing an old, wired stereo set.

‘Listen,’ Erik says, throwing a fallen plastic chip at Az to get his attention, ‘I'm going to meet Charles. The sensors on Magneto better be fixed by the time I get back.’

‘It's you who broke that sensor, not me, asshole,’ Az drawls without looking up from the jumble of wires and plastic pieces spread out in front of him.

‘I may have broken it but that jerky landing was your fault as much as it was mine. So it better be fixed.’

Ignoring the middle finger Az has raised in the air--which he no doubt is holding up long enough for Erik to turn around and look-- Erik picks up his lynk-pad from the table and shouts out, ‘You're on your own for dinner.’

_ Where are you? _ The second message reads.

_ I'll be there in twenty _, Erik jams out the text and starts his sky-ski.

Charles is slumped on the chair and absently poking at his lynk-pad when Erik reaches the restaurant. The shirt he's wearing is a little large for him, and no doubt came from an expensive store. The last of Ymir’s oblique rays cast long shadows on his scrunched brows and the unhappy slant of his mouth; the sight of which Erik hates. 

‘I don't know why you choose this bloody place all the time.’ Erik scowls in greeting and takes a seat opposite Charles.

‘They have the best prawns,’ Charles replies without looking up from his lynk-pad. 

If Charles is not looking him in the eye, he's either embarrassed or unhappy, and this time, Erik suspects it to be a bit of both. ‘What did the asshole say?’

'He didn't say anything because he didn't show up at all,’ Charles says, sinking his head further towards his chest. His hand that had been fiddling with the screen stills mid motion, and his voice drops to a murmur. ‘He could have just said that he didn't want to see me again. He didn't have to get my hopes up that we had a future and dump-’

Anger wells up within Erik. He hadn't liked the bastard from the start, but he'd bitten his lip from speaking out his mind because Charles had been giddily happy when they'd started dating. But now, he wants to break Warren's legs and make him beg for Charles’ apology. But such a sentiment would only succeed in riling Charles up further, so Erik just resigns to saying: ‘You know that you only have to say the word, don't you? I'll make sure the asshole regrets this day entirely.’

‘I don't want you to do that,’ Charles snaps. His blue eyes are moist when he looks up at Erik. A few diners turn to look at them and Erik glares at them all into looking away. ‘I want you to just-’ Charles trails off, inhaling a lungful of air and releasing it in a slow and shaky breath. In a much smaller voice, he says, ‘-just sit here with me.’

'I can do that,’ Erik agrees after a beat.

Charles’ thanks is swallowed by a waiter who comes inquiring them of their order. 

‘I hope you haven't had dinner, because I'm starving,’ Charles says flicking on the menu tab on the table-top. The plain plexiglas below his palm comes to life in a myriad of colours. ‘Please, feel free to order whatever you want. It's my treat.’

Erik smiles to himself as Charles gets busy browsing through the menu. Even after all these years, he's still caught off guard by how polite and kind Charles is. Anyone who can't see that is a veritable dick.

‘Of course.’ Erik scoffs. He flicks the menu on his side of the table, too. 'I didn't come here all the way if not for free food.’

Charles bursts out laughing, throwing his head back, bright and sudden. The changing colours on the table play and ripple on the contours of Charles’s face, like Ymir's fire that lights up the northern skies. Erik's smile turns into a grin.

Two pints of beer float beside a bot as it brings Charles’ order of ‘Tampered prawns on a bed of roasted, seasonal veg’ -- which is just fried prawns as far as Erik is concerned-- and Erik's order of fried chicken. 

The gusto with which Charles digs into his food leaves Erik wondering as to how long he'd been waiting alone, or if he'd even eaten his lunch at all for that matter.

'I mean,’ Charles begins to say between mouthfuls of food, ‘why can't I just find someone like everyone else? Sometimes I wish that I could just skip this dating phase and go right to finding my soulmate.’

Erik chuckles. He sips on his beer to wash away the remnants of chicken from his mouth. 'First of all, there's no such thing as soulmates. Secondly, do you have to be that dramatic?’

Charles stops in the middle of drowning a prawn in the overly-creamy dip that had come with the dish and narrows his eyes at Erik. A few strands of his hair sway in the gentle breeze and fall into his eyes. ‘Says the man who chose the most exuberant colour one could have chosen for a ship. Magenta, Erik? Really?’

‘Hey, it's more of a practical choice than an aesthetic one. You wouldn't be saying that if you saw it maneuvering through Setebos' rings. Not even their N-grade telescopes can spot it. It was Az's idea actually. He'll tell you up and down-’ Erik stops, for Charles isn't listening to him. His eyes are cast off at the greyed sky where Ymir's presence is reduced to a speck of red below the horizon, and his jawline works mechanically as he pensively chews on his prawn.

Erik sighs. He hates seeing Charles like this. Hates seeing him put himself down when he's easily the brainiest guy Erik knows. At just twenty-two he has a PhD to his name and the post of an assistant professor that'll, no doubt, soon turn into that of a professor while people like Erik are transporting space trash for a living. 

Erik's not good with words, not with comforting ones, anyway. But he's good with facts, and he hopes that Charles can see through his reasoning. Picking a cube of carrot from Charles’ plate he tosses it at the latter. The carrot doesn't quite hit the mark, but it succeeds in getting Charles’ attention. ‘Charles, you're only twenty-two-’

'-Twenty-one and seven months, actually,’ Charles says glancing his way.

‘Fine. Twenty-one, then. You're still _ young _. You have a lifetime ahead of you to find someone who'll love and respect you. It's just a matter of time.’

‘And what if that time never comes?’ Charles asks throwing his hands in the air petulantly. 

Erik has never really understood why he said what he said or why he did what he did that day. Maybe it was the confidence that Charles would find someone worthy of him. Maybe it was the absence of his impulse control. Maybe it was just the yearning to wipe the frown off of Charles’ face and see the upturn of his lips. 

‘I'll make a deal with you, then,’ Erik says leaning back in his chair. ‘If you aren't married or in a relationship even after ten years from today, I'll marry you.’

Charles stares at Erik-- eyes wide and jaw slacked-- for an entire minute before bursting out into peals of laughter. ‘You're ridiculous, Erik,’ he says when he regains his breath enough to speak.

Erik pulls out his lynk-pad from the pocket of his jeans in lieu of responding, scribbles out a note and presses his thumb as a hologram. He holds out the lynk-pad to Charles. ‘What?’ he asks, trying to sound offended and failing miserably. ‘You don't want to marry me?’

Charles regards Erik with fond amusement and a gentle smile for a moment before plucking the lynk-pad from Erik's hands and pressing his thumb as a hologram. ‘Alright. I'll marry you. There. The pact is complete now.’

*

During the next nine and a half years, Erik changes three lynk-pads, and when they get decommissioned by comms, he changes three more of those. But whatever communication gadget he possesses, there's one file that’s ever-present on it. One with both Charles’ and his holograms that reads in Erik's chicken-pecked handwriting:

_ I, Charles Francis Xavier, agree to marry Erik Magnus Lehnsherr if I'm not otherwise married or in a committed relationship as of ten years from today, star-dated- 2020:08:007 _

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the stardate to look forward to is: 2030:08:007, folks


	2. Fenrir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-powered au, but all the characters retain their appearances, because *waves hands in the air* SPACE LOGIC!!  
Also, I chose to keep Raven's skin smooth (sans the scales) like it's in the comics. So... 9.5 YEARS LAAATEEER!!!

** _[2029:02:014, Shallow space, Ymir System]_ **

Setebos’ mighty rings come into view when Erik looks out through Magneto’s window. Its twin satellites glint in the distance under Ymir’s light. The red gas that perpetually clogs the planet clears out the closer they get to the surface. At the speed they’re moving, it’ll take another twenty minutes at best to land in a docking station. 

Erik performs a cursory check of the landing thrusters at the rear end of the ship and closes the hood to the electrical bay. The hum of the whirring gears and machines dies with the door sliding shut.

Erik’s comm chimes twice in his pocket. He generally turns off the auto-read option when he’s on a job or travelling through deep space, forcing him to pull out the comm and read its contents. 

_ Erik… _

_ Where are you? _ Charles’ two messages read. 

Bloody hell. Erik jams the intercom button on the nearest wall and shouts into it, ‘Az, pull the ship around.’

‘What?’ Az’s voice comes back, sounding incredulous.

‘I said turn the bloody ship around!’ Erik shouts again.

‘This better be for good, Lehnsherr. Or I swear I won’t leave you alive.’

Erik has to broaden his stance and brace the nearest wall to prevent from falling sideways as the ship makes an acute turn towards Orion.

*

** _[2029:02:014, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Setebos is further away from Ymir than Orion is and its orbit far more elliptical. Therefore, even with hours of space travel, Erik lands on Orion just after eleven at night. Az drops him off at the hanger closest to Charles’ home and takes off for the dockstraps to station Magneto.

A quick walk and ten minutes later, Erik finds himself at Charles’ doorstep. The AI at the door scans his face and lets him in.

Erik has never really liked Orion, but he can't deny that the view of Fenrir rising is breathtaking. The planet’s natural satellite rises against the elephant grey skies outside the floor to ceiling plexiglas window that lines one side of Charles’ living room, shy at first and then bold, peeking through the murky white clouds. The constellations of stars blink and wink around it in greeting.

With the kind of money Charles is born with, he can easily afford to live in a mansion, or even on an island lining the Juniper Oceans. But he’s content to live in a small house in a far-off corner of the city. Despite the simplicity of the house, however, it’s opulently furnished. The kitchen counter and bar stools that skirt it are sleek metal and the sofas are armchairs are of the smoothest leather and velvet one could find on Orion.

Erik walks towards the sofa and drops the package he’d picked up from the ship on the coffee table in front of it. The room freshener above the entertainment deck hisses once, diffusing a minty smell throughout the room. It’s a welcome reprieve after inhaling the rough and recycled air of the ship.

Charles emerges from the hallway, tugging on the last button of his pajama top. It’s a size too large on him, but like everything Charles owns, it’s expensive. 

‘How do you manage to keep the place clean all the time?’ Erik asks, crossing the table and walking a few steps such that he’s now standing within arm’s reach from Charles. 

Charles stops in his tracks and snaps his head up so fast that Erik wouldn’t be surprised if the action had caused a sprain in Charles’ neck. As if pulling himself out of a trance, Charles blinks several times and then beams. ‘Erik! It’s so good to see you, my friend.’ His eyes twinkle in the soft white light.

Erik wants to tell Charles off for being so lax with his security. If Charles hadn’t sensed Erik’s arrival, what are the odds that he’d sense an intrusion on his home, but before Erik can open his mouth, his stomach rumbles loudly in protest. It’s only then that Erik realises that he hasn’t eaten anything solid for the last nine hours. 

Charles chuckles and offers to re-heat his leftover dinner. They both settle down on the sofa. Charles places a bottle of water on the coffee table as Erik digs into his dinner, twirling the fork around the strands of noodles in an attempt to scoop up as much as possible. 

‘Slow down, tiger,’ Charles says fondly, and laughs when Erik puts on a show of chewing on his food in slow motion.

‘Where were you?’ Charles continues, ‘I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. You didn’t even call.’

‘I was on Hyperion on a job,’ Erik says after swallowing a mouthful. ‘I just got back from there actually.’ It isn’t a lie as far as Erik is concerned, not completely at least. He _ was _on Hyperion to collect the latest models of sky-skis. Half of it were to be unloaded for a buyer on Setebos and the other half in Orion. Erik just omits the part where they didn’t land on Setebos and swiveled towards Orion instead, because including that piece of information will undoubtedly make Charles feel guilty. It’s a white lie at best, but lying to Charles in any capacity makes Erik feels uneasy, so Erik diverts the topic. ‘Enough about me. How was your day?’

‘Okay, I suppose.’ Charles shrugs, looking away. ‘Finished my classes by early afternoon, and Raven had set up a blind date for me in the evening. Nothing out of the ordinary.’

Erik knows that the date went badly. Charles wouldn't have texted him otherwise. Just how badly is the question. Erik keeps his head down and pretends to fuss over the noodles that prefers to stick to the fork and eggs Charles on to continue. ‘And…’

‘... And the guy didn't show up. It must be a new low, even for me,’ Charles chuckles. It’s the self-deprecating kind; the kind Erik hates hearing from Charles. ‘Generally, I’m dumped after a meeting at least.’

Erik frowns. He wonders if he could threaten Raven into spilling out the name of the guy who was supposed to meet Charles. Then again, if Raven had known the guy, she would have probably threatened the guy herself. 

‘Oh, stop it!’ Charles bats at his shoulder lightly and at Erik’s questioning look, says, ‘I can tell you’re plotting ways to hurt a guy you don’t even know.’

‘Plotting?’ Erik scoffs ‘You make me sound like a nefarious villain.’

‘With that Magenta ship of yours, you certainly fit the part.’

Any other time Erik would have ranted about the colour being a pragmatic choice rather than an aesthetic one, but looking at the amused smile on Charles’ face, Erik doesn’t mind being the source of it. ‘And, when did you gain the powers of mind reading, Professor?’

‘I didn’t. And I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what you’re thinking.’ Charles picks up the bottle from the table and presses his thumb on the side to open it.

Erik hums in agreement. It's true. Almost like he possesses a sixth sense, Charles knows exactly what Erik's thinking, sometimes even before Erik realises it himself; a prospect that would have been intimidating if anyone other than Charles were to be involved.

Charles offers him the bottle of water once he finishes eating and Erik takes a swig from it.

‘By the way,’ Erik says wiping his mouth, ‘I didn’t know that you had such a wild streak in you, Professor. Going on dates on a weekday, are you now?’ He puts on a predatory grin, the kind that Az says reminds him of Kari’s sea creatures. ‘Scandalous!’

Erik expects Charles to smack him on the shoulder in rebuttal. But Erik’s amusement dies a strangled death on seeing Charles’ rueful smile. He looks away, towards Fenrir and the countless stars. ‘I didn’t want to be alone today,’ Charles says, and more softly, woefully, he adds: ‘It’s Valentine's Day today.’

_ You aren’t _ , Erik wants to say. _ I’m right here _. But it isn’t the same, and he knows it. Someday, Erik hopes that he’ll have something more to offer Charles than a mere distraction and a friendly shoulder, but until that day, it’s all he has.

‘Here,’ Erik says, pushing the package on the coffee table towards Charles. 

‘What is this?’ Charles turns towards him and looks at the square box skeptically.

‘Open it.’

Charles shoots him a dubious look-- like he expects to open it and find a toy mouse jumping on him--but does as he’s told. He removes the foil wrap surrounding it and opens the box slowly. A blue glow emanates from the inside, and the smooth voice of an AI fills the room: _ Good Evening, Professor! _

‘Erik,’ Charles says looking up at him with eyes as wide as Tethys’ rings. Erik chuckles.

‘Is this a-’ Charles’ asks, eyes locked on the sleek strip of metal as he pulls it out of the padding of the box.

‘A Beamer? Yes, it is,’ Erik agrees, pleased.

‘But it’s not launched on Orion yet, has it? How did you get it?’

‘It’s not launched here, yes. But it has on Hyperion. I thought you’d like it. I calibrated it to answer to your voice.’

Charles stares at Erik for a moment, mouth slack and then begins shaking his head vigorously. ‘No, I can’t accept this.’

Erik huffs. ‘Why not?’

‘It must have cost you a fortune for starters,’ Charles protests. 

It hadn’t. Alex owes him much more than a beamer. Both Azazel and Erik had picked out a beamer from the shipments Alex had received, but Erik had set aside his beamer for Charles because he remembered Charles commenting on wanting one. A small part of Erik niggles at the fact that he can’t even afford to pay for a decent gift for Charles, but there’s nothing that can be done about it. If he has to terrorise that little punk Alex to bring a smile on Charles’ face, then he’ll do it.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Erik says and plucks the band out of Charles’ hand. ‘I want you to have it.’ Taking Charles’ left hand in his, Erik pushes up the hem of Charles’ sleeve to expose his wrist and places the band above his pulse. The metal whirls and hisses as it recalibrates to fit snugly around Charles’ wrist. ‘The beamer comes in two modes. The default mode- where the metal remains silver when you aren't using it, and the transparent mode, where the band blends with your skin when not in use. Which do you prefer?’

Charles chews on his lower lip for what seems like an eternity, gaze locked on the band, no doubt doused in the dilemma over accepting or rejecting it rather than which mode he’d prefer. Finally, he looks up at Erik. ‘I don’t know. What do you reckon?’

‘The default mode,’ Erik suggests. He likes the look of the sleek metal on Charles.

‘Default it is then.’

‘One last thing.’ Erik slides a fingertip on the band. The silver metal glows a bright blue in its wake and the AI says: _ What would you like to name me, Professor? _

Charles grins at Erik, and after a moment of pondering, declares, ‘Cerebro!’

_ Cerebro at your service _, the AI chirps and Erik laughs.

‘What?’ Charles asks. The offended front he intends to put on is betrayed by the smile on his face.

‘Nothing. Only you can come up with a name like Cerebro.’

‘Just like only you can come up with a name like Magneto for your ship,’ Charles says haughtily, further accentuating his accent.

Erik rolls his eyes and scoots further back on the sofa to put space between them. ‘Alright, You can make the beamer do what you want. Make it read the news, read you a book, set your appointments, play videos and games, ask for information- anything you want. You can even integrate it with your house AI. It’s almost like having your own personal AI.’ Erik rubs his hands together. ‘Let’s run this thing. What do you want it to do now?’

Charles hums, twisting his wrist this way and that. The lights catch against the metal and it glints with the changing angles. ‘How about deconstruct the human double helix?’

‘What? Charles, the universe is at your command, and all you want it to do is deconstruct the human...whatever?’

Charles opens and closes his mouth like a gaping fish. ‘Well, what do you want me to ask it then?’

Erik isn’t sure either, but definitely not some scientific gibberish. ‘Something fun,’ he declares, ‘like...porn.’

Charles’ cheeks colour instantly to a bright shade of red. He stutters to say, ‘No, thank you. The human double helix makes me equally happy.’

Erik rolls his eyes while Charles commands the AI-- no Cerebro-- to deconstruct the human chromosome. A hologram of a double helix begins to form between them as the projector of the beamer begins to glow, blurry at first and then growing in resolution, red and purple spheres bound by yellow cylinders. Once fully formed, the helix begins to turn in place, and as it does, plunges the room in colours.

‘Wow,’ Charles whispers in wonder, eyes riveted on the hologram.

With a flick of his fingers, Erik gestures the helix to float over to the coffee table and scoots to sit next to Charles. An information tab pops up in front of them when Charles clicks on a red sphere on the helix. Charles looks at it wonder struck, like a child looking at a sky-ski for the first time and dreaming of owning it one day, just like how he had looked at Erik when he had fixed Charles’ e-libpad the day they’d met.

Charles’ laughter pulls Erik out of his thoughts. ‘It’s an MCR-1 gene,’ Charles declares flashing a bright smile at Erik. Charles can tell the details of every single gene on that helix without the help of any information tab, Erik knows. Charles is just that brilliant. ‘MCR-1 gene, Erik,’ he continues, ‘pigments your hair Auburn. It’s a mutation from the standard MNCR-3 gene. It’s a mutation, my friend. A very groovy mutation.’

Though Erik suppresses the huff of laughter that bubbles up his chest, Charles catches it. ‘What?’ Charles protests, feigning indignation, ‘It’s true.’ He then goes on to describe the molecular structure and atomic bonds of the dioxy- something in detail. Erik doesn’t understand the scientific jargons that Charles babbles a mile a minute, eyes wide-- flashing red and purple in the hologram’s reflection- and hands flying articulately. 

Come morning, Erik will have to leave for Hyperion. Az, no doubt, is going to give him an earful for abandoning a job. Not only will Erik lose out on his share of the commission, but he’ll have to pay a hefty duty for late delivery, which will all add up to two months worth of earnings. But when he looks at Charles, smiling brightly in the light of the hologram, he realises it’s worth it.

It always is.

*

For two people who are so alike, Charles doesn’t understand how Erik and Raven are wary of each other. In some other alternate universe, they’d be bonding over their mutual intolerance of bullshit, he supposes.

‘So it’s illegal to ship hyperbeams from Hyperion to Orion, but you still do it,’ Raven is asking Erik when Charles walks into the hall the next morning. He had woken up later than usual, but that was bound to happen since he and Erik had fallen asleep at the crack of dawn, catching up after two months. 

Raven is in a pair of jeans and a red top. Her white coat is perched on the armrest of the sofa, which means that she’s yet to get to work.

‘No, I don’t ship hyperbeams. That’s illegal. But what’s not illegal is shipping their fibre bodies from Hyperion. Just as it is perfectly legal to ship the 10KW nitrate batteries that power N-Class hyperbeams from Tethys. But when you assemble the two of them on Orion, you surprisingly end up with a hyperbeam. It’s magic, really.’ Erik replies dryly. The pillow he’d been sleeping on the previous night is still at one end of the sofa while the threadbare blanket is lying on the carpet in a heap.

Both of them do a thorough job of ignoring him as Charles enters the kitchen and commands the house AI to start on his tea. A red band of heat follows his finger as he swipes it on the counter top, places a pan and cracks five eggs. 

‘That’s still not clean, Lehnsherr, You’re still working outside the law.’ Raven replies, narrowing her eyes at Erik. 

‘I don’t work outside the law, Raven. Just in between it. Moreover, we can’t all be cardiac surgeons like you.’

They don’t acknowledge Charles’s presence even when the AI chirps that his tea is ready. The act is all too intentional and Charles chuckles a little to himself, amused.

His sister and Erik continue their banter as Charles plates up their breakfast, along with a pot of coffee for Raven and Erik and tea for himself.

With Erik sitting on the sofa and Raven sitting on the armchair on one end of the coffee table, Charles settles on the other armchair, opposite the first. They eat their breakfast as Raven rants about an incompetent intern at work between bouts of swallowing her meal. She's in a grumpier mood than usual, and unlike Erik, her temper manifests in words rather than actions. When he'd called her the previous night to tell her about his failed date, she'd been in the middle of a surgery, so he hadn't been expecting her this early in the morning. But it's always nice to have her over. Charles listens to her fondly, pitching in now and then for clarifications. Erik just eats his breakfast with a resigned boredom.

‘Wait a minute.’ Raven points to Charles’ left hand with her knife. ‘You didn’t have that shiny piece of jewelry on you when I saw you last week.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Charles grins. ‘It’s a beamer. A gift from Erik.’

Erik curses loudly as Raven gets up just enough to reach Erik and swat him hard on the shoulder without warning. ‘How does he get a beamer and I don’t?’

‘Because he lets me sleep on his sofa and you don’t,’ Erik bites back. 

And just like that their banter re-hashes and then escalates when Azazel shows up at his doorstep and the AI lets him in. Azazel’s tail flicks lazily behind him as he enters the hall. His skin blazes a bright red in Ymir’s tender light spilling into the hall.

‘Why does Az have access to your house?’ Erik complains petulantly.

Azazel beams at him ignoring Erik. ‘Ah, It’s lovely to see you, Charles!’ His eyes twinkle in something more than mirth when it falls on the beamer on Charles’ wrist. ‘Good piece of tech there,’ he says, pointing at it.

‘It’s good to see you, Azazel. It’s been quite some time.’ Charles nods, grinning. ‘And yes, good piece of tech, indeed.’

The twinkle in his dark eyes flare full fledged when Azazel spots Raven sitting opposite to Charles. He bows to her dramatically, and in a voice sweeter than nectar, purrs, ‘And you, Miss Raven. What an absolute pleasure to meet you here!’

Raven rolls her eyes and grumbles below her breath, ‘Unfortunately, I can’t say the same.’ Az catches it either way and laughs good naturedly, eyes closed and head thrown back. ‘Anyway, I have to leave now if I want to avoid the worst of the ski-way traffic,’ she says out loud. Picking up her coat from the armrest she walks over to Charles and hugs him. ‘I’ll drop by this Sunday if I’m free.’

Charles hugs her tightly and kisses her on the cheek. 'Bye, darling. Drive safe.' 

Ignoring the salute Azazel flicks her with his tail, Raven breezes out of the room. It’s no secret that Azazel harbours a mighty crush on Raven, and that his interest is not returned. But the man takes rejection in stride, and has been doing for the past two years, ever since he openly expressed an interest in her.

As the older brother, Charles probably shouldn't encourage Azazel to pursue his sister. But he can’t say he’s put off by the idea of Azazel dating Raven. For a person who looks like the incarnation of a devil from some holy scriptures from Earth-616, Azazel is extremely polite, kind, generous, and most of all, a good man. But Raven is just… Raven, so Charles takes pity on the man and smiles at him. ‘Azazel. Would you like some breakfast?’

Azazel pats his belly fondly. ‘Ah, that’s very kind of you, Charles. Thank you. But I’ve already had breakfast. Besides, it’s getting late.’ Azazel looks pointedly at Erik and Erik glares back. Something passes between the two of them before Erik sighs and gets up. He places his empty plate on the coffee table and picks up his leather jacket from its careless sprawl on the backrest of the sofa. ‘I should be leaving, Charles,’ he says, shoving his arms into the sleeves. 

Charles’s voice sticks to his throat. The joy that had bloomed in his heart on seeing Erik the previous night drops and plummets to the depths of his heart. _But you just got here,_ _and that too after two months._ _Stay… _Charles wants to say. ‘So soon?’ is all he's able to say when his voice recovers. ‘I thought you’d be here for a few days, Erik.’

‘I’m sorry. But I really should get going. We have to be in the Loge System before the month ends.' Though Erik's voice is impassive, his movements are jerky as he moves across the hall looking for his missing shoe. 

The Loge System. Only once had Erik gone on a job to the Loge system in the past, and it had involved Erik disappearing for four months. Four months. Which means that Erik won’t be here for his birthday. Charles’ heart sinks further. 

‘When will you be back?’ Charles asks because the thought of spending four more months without Erik knots his stomach.

Once he finds his missing shoe, Erik puts it on and walks over to Charles. Squeezing his shoulder, Erik says, ‘I’ll be back soon.’ If Charles sees his longing reflected in Erik’s eyes as well, it’s only his wistful thinking. 

Charles smiles tightly when Azazel bids him goodbye and leaves with Erik. He slumps onto the sofa and clutches his left wrist to his heart. There’s no one to notice that his breath shudders its way out of his lungs. He’s all alone once again.

*

** _[2029:02:015, Orion’s docks, Ymir System]_ **

By the time Az and him unload the second load of sky-skis in Orion, it’s almost mid-day. Even with the heads up they have on day-light, it’s going to be midnight by the time they land on Hyperion, which will further push their delivery by another day. A two-day delay in delivery will prove to be costly for him. Still, there’s nothing that can be done.

‘Why don’t we have a ship AI? Manual setting is infuriating,’ Erik complains as he sets the coordinates of the ship to point to Setebos. 

‘Because there has been an increase in our loss rate lately, and we simply can’t afford an AI.’ Az tuns the navigation hologram to face him. ‘Angel,’ he calls out. His beamer comes to life, and in a smooth voice, asks: _ What can I do for you, Azazel? _

‘Integrate with the ship’s mainframes and set the course for Setebos.’

After a beat, the AI chirps: _ Course set for Setebos. Your flight duration is 7 hours and 8 minutes if the rings are free of storm. _As Angel announces, a hologram of Setebos with its rings and twin satellites appear above the panel, complete with a course map from Orion.

Still fiddling with the hologram, Azazel says, ‘Lucky for you, I have a beamer I can integrate with the ships’ mainframes. Speaking of beamers... what was it back there?’

‘What was what back there?’ Erik tries to slip away, because he’s not in the mood for this conversation. The fact that he owes Azazel an explanation is inconsequential. 

‘You know what I mean, duh.’

‘Some bastard stood Charles up.’

‘So you went to keep him company.’ Whether it’s a question or statement, Erik doesn’t know.

‘Something like that,’ Erik says vaguely, hoping that it’ll put an end to their line of conversation. He pulls the controls to maneuver the ship on route to Setebos. The thrusters groan as the ship swivels above Orion into shallow space.

The Juniper oceans shine a bright blue below them. They say that when the seas are seen from space, it’s the same shade of blue as the Juniper flowers that grow in winter; and hence the nomenclature.

It’s the same shade of blue of Charles’ eyes. 

And just like that, the dejection in Charles’ eyes when Erik left him that morning plagues his mind. He hates that look on Charles. The thought of leaving Charles all alone twists Erik’s guts. Granted that Charles isn’t technically alone, Raven is with him, yes, but Raven lives in the opposite end of the city, and she’s always busy.

Despite how much he wants to, Erik can’t stay. Space trade isn’t flourishing like it did before, like it used to when they started out. The transition taxes have increased, the laws have become stricter and there are way more competitors flying between planets. In the last few months, they’ve incurred nothing but losses. Erik _ has _to take up more jobs because he needs the money. It’s the helplessness that angers Erik the most.

Az doesn’t rehash the conversation until they’re in deep space. ‘So,’ Az asks clearing his throat. ‘Your pact with Charles, the thing where you’ll marry him…’ he trails off, gesturing vaguely with his hands, ‘Is that still in place?’

‘Yes,’ Erik agrees gruffly.

‘Doesn’t the ten-year lid on it come off in another six months?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘What will you do if Charles doesn’t find somebody within the next six months? Will you marry him?’

‘It won’t come to that,’ Erik replies. It might be a pact to others, but to him, it’s a promise he’d made to Charles. A promise he intends to keep. He taps the course map on the hologram panel a little too forcefully. ‘Besides, I’m hardly a match for Charles even if it were to be that way.’

‘Why not?’ Az asks so genuinely puzzled by it that it almost prompts a laugh out of Erik. 

‘Charles is brilliant, Az. The most brilliant man I know. He’s got three PhDs. Three! He’s got a respectable job and a name in the society. And what have I got? Not a penny to my name. Forget about money, I don’t even have a degree. I’m a scrapper, Az, I transport space trash for a living.’

‘That was before. But now you-’

‘And now I work outside the law-’ Erik completes.

‘-In-between the law’ Az protests.

‘Yes, alright. In-between the law. But if any trade-association on any planet gets a hint of what or how we’re trading, we’ll be behind bars. You and I both know that.’

Az scowls, his dissent intensifying the scar that runs across his face.

‘Okay, suppose we do marry. What then?’ Erik continues, ‘I can’t just leave him on Orion and run off into space for months together, Az. That’s not how relationships work.’

Az’s scowl deepens. ‘And what do you know anything about how a relationship should work?’

‘Fine. I may not know anything about relationships. But I do know that Charles is better off without someone like me. And we’re…’ Erik trails off. Beyond the ships’ window, hot clouds of dust swirl around a speck of light. Red, green, pink and yellow gases rising and sinking in a cauldron of colours. It’s the beginnings of a new star. ‘Charles is… he’s like a star, Az, pure and bright. And I’m the dust trailing around it.’

Az looks at him intently when Erik averts his eyes from the window, as thought if inspected carefully, he could find the bottom of Erik’s soul. 

Erik sighs heavily. He’s tired of this conversation. ‘Look, it won’t come to that, okay? There’s still six months left. And six months are more than enough for Charles to find a man who deserves him.’ Only a jackass cannot see how amazing Charles is, and though it may seem to Erik as it were, the universe isn’t filled with jackasses. Not completely at least. 

Disgruntled, Az grumbles something under his breath, but thankfully doesn’t speak about it for the rest of the journey. He’s known Erik long enough to gauge when to push and when to retreat. That’s probably why Erik still keeps him around as his partner.

Fours hours into the flight, when they're steadily swallowing miles of deep space, Erik's comm chimes with a text. It's from Charles, and it reads: _ Safe journey, Erik. I'll miss you _. 

Erik huffs out a breath, and despite himself, smiles. He’ll miss Charles too; much more than he should.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long-ass chapter, but I hope it gave more insight into the premise and CYBERPUNK!


	3. Hyperion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love turning things upside down and mixing space with them!!

They say that out of all the planets in the universe, Earth-616 is the most beautiful. Or rather,  _ was _ , before its inhabitants brought it to the verge of inhabitability. The once omnipresent flower beds became dump zones for toxic waste and its rivers ran black with molten plastic and silicon. They also say that the Xaviers owned a massive estate on Earth-616, with sprawling grounds enclosing a mammoth of a Mansion within it. Charles remembers very little of it, for he was only six when his father died. Following the death of his father, his mother decided to sell the Xavier estate and leave the planet for good. By the time they move from one house to another and finally leave for Hyperion, however, Charles is ten.

Hyperion is a planet on an orbit far off from Ymir, and its inhabitants are a race with cool, smooth, cobalt blue skins and fiery, golden eyes. It snows most of the year, and when Ymir decides to show up, it’s only for a month.

Though space travel has escalated over the years encouraging races to mix and mingle, it hasn’t succeeded in eradicating discrimination. Charles is the odd one out in the school-- the new boy with pale skin and blue eyes-- a human in a world of Hyperions. The kids are wary of him.  _ Why is his hair that colour? Look at his skin, it’s horrible. His eyes are scary, _ Charles hears his schoolmates say behind his back, day in and out. He slouches in his chair and doesn't look up at the plasma screen the teacher is pointing at or doesn’t respond when his name is being called out in class. He cries himself to sleep on days that are too bad, shrinking in on himself under the thermal blanket, pretending that he’s in his mother’s arms, warm and safe. Charles is always careful to keep his sobs unheard, because Mother doesn’t tolerate such behaviour.

Winter is a long affair on Hyperion and the skies are glum and blue. When it ends, Mother meets Kurt Marko. Mr. Marko is a big man with a large house and a larger number of bots running around it. The white streaks of hair that are beginning to outnumber the red look strange on his chunky face. He’s quick to anger and quicker to act on it, so Charles shrinks away from the man the moment he steps into Marko’s house, leaving his Mother in the former’s company. 

The house is beautiful in its own way, Charles can’t deny it. The layout is simple and the furniture clean and organised. Charles busies himself with exploring the house that looks like it’s solely inhabited by Mr. Marko and his army of bots. So it’s a surprise when he clicks open a door on the far end of the house and comes face to face with a little girl. Her skin is a smooth blue and her eyes are a golden yellow, contrasting with the stark red of her short hair. With their accelerated metabolism, it’s always difficult to tell the age of Hyperions, but the girl would between five and six years, Charles guesses.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here,’ Charles apologises quickly. He doesn’t want to be caught poking around the house.

The girl smiles softly, revealing a neat row of white teeth. ‘What’s your name?’ she asks without a shred of fear for the stranger who’s standing at the entrance of what looks like a kitchen.

‘Charles,’ he supplies. ‘Yours?’

‘Raven,’ she provides. ‘Are you hungry?’

Charles is famished. He’d only eaten breakfast and skipped lunch because Mother had insisted on saving his appetite for dinner at the Markos. She probably wouldn’t get to know if he snuck in a little snack before dinner, so he nods vigorously.

‘There,’ Raven says, pointing to a counter on the far end of the kitchen, ‘You can take whatever you want.’

Some foods are instantly recognisable in the large spread and Charles has to rack his brain to place a few others, so he settles for a scone and brings it to the bench on which Raven is sitting.

‘Did you come with the woman wearing the red frock,’ she asks. She has settled on eating a lolly like looking thing swirling in an array of colours.

‘Yes,’ Charles admits between mouthfuls of his scone. ‘What about you? Do you live here?’

‘Yes,’ she agrees easily, ‘Sometimes, when I’m not living with my mom.’

‘Are you Mr.Marko’s daughter?’

‘Yes.’

Charles hums on it and goes back to finishing his scone before a bot comes to escort them for dinner. With Raven sitting next to him on the huge dining table- commanding the bots expertly and taking turns to murmur with him, dinner is not, at least, as strange an affair as Charles had thought it would be.

While Charles cherishes Raven’s company, she isn’t his age or doesn’t share most of his interests. But the more Charles gets to see of Raven either at his house or hers, Charles finds that she’s all too smart for a girl of five, perceptive and sharp as a whip. Brash and bold in all the ways that Charles isn’t. She’s also pompous with an air that screams ‘entitled’, but she wears it like a second skin, so Charles can’t complain all that much. It suits her, he decides.

There are also the days when Charles hates seeing her, days when his mother smiles tightly at her. He knows it’s petty to be jealous, but it’s simply not fair. But such days are few and far between, so they’re tolerable.

There’s no denying, however, that Raven’s presence has infinitely made Charles’ days livelier. It’s a relief to come home from school to find her scouring through his belongings or complaining about how boring they all are. So, he’s beyond thrilled when his Mother tells him that she and Mr. Marko are getting married.

‘Charles,’ Raven interrupts him while he’s reading ‘Gulliver's Travels’ to her. It’s an old paperback that his father had possessed. He hadn’t carried over a lot of possessions while moving to Hyperion, but Charles is beyond glad that he had packed a small section of his father’s paper book collection. They had been his faithful friends in the absence of Raven. So in a bid to share his love for them with her, he had picked out Gulliver’s Travels, thinking that a girl of her age and temperament might come to enjoy the story. But going by her tone that screams:  _ bored and uninterested _ , he might have been wrong.

‘What?’ Charles sighs and closes the book.

Staring at the ceiling from where she’s precariously balanced on the edge of his bed, Raven asks, ‘If my dad marries your mom, does that make you my brother?’

Charles ponders over it for a moment and finally says, ‘Yes, it does.’

She hums in thought and a minute later, adds: ‘I think I like that.’

Charles smiles. ‘I think I like that, too.’

The wedding comes and goes before either Charles or Raven realise it, but both of them are immensely glad for the change in their living situations. Charles and his mother move in to live with the Markos and Charles is given the room next to Raven’s as his. Raven, for her part, however, takes to living in his room entirely. Her complaints about Charles’ paperbacks (because who even owns paper books these days) and microscopes are a small price to pay.

The spring lasts for over a month, and with the impending winter, Charles’ bubble of happiness bursts and the short-lived peace comes crashing down. Charles doesn't know what happened to Mr. Marko, but all he knows is that he’s no more. 

‘Pack your things, Charles. We’re leaving in a week,’ his Mother tells him one day, her voice stern and inflectionless. Charles is too scared to ask why or where, and more importantly, if Raven is coming with them.

It turns out that Raven won’t be coming with them, and that she’d be moving to stay with her own mother. 

Charles clutches her close to his chest, fighting back the tears threatening to trash past his lashes the day he’s bound to leave. Though Raven pretends to be beyond sentiments, she hugs him with equal fervor. 

‘For you,’ Charles says, pulling out the copy of Gulliver’s Travels from his backpack and hands it to her. Raven doesn’t look up at him as she receives it, eyes riveted on the battered cover, but when she looks up, there’s a glint in her gold eyes, as she says, ‘Ew, you’re such an old fart, Charles.’

Charles bursts out laughing suddenly and his withheld tears chose the same moment to run down his cheeks.

They part on the promise of keeping in touch and visiting, but Charles has little hopes to begin with. He doesn’t even know where they’re going.

Two hour later, Charles and his mother are boarding a spaceship big enough to fit three of Mr.Marko’s houses. A bot escorts them to their quarters as the ship AI announces in its polished voice:  _ Welcome on board the Caspertina. Your flight duration is 9 hours with two jump points. We will be warping between deep and shallow space, so turbulence might be expected. Take off is in 20 minutes. We wish you a safe flight to Orion. _

*

When Charles is twenty, he gets a call from an unknown contact. On the other end is a girl who declares that she's calling from Ms. Darkholme's residence and inquiries him of his whereabouts.

'Are you still a lilliputian or have you grown at all?' she asks finally and Charles gasps. 'Raven?'

'I'm coming to Orion, you old fart.'

*

** _[2029:02:020, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Raven comes to Orion carrying her mother’s surname and the fortune left behind by both her parents individually. Though Raven has been in Orion for almost a decade now, she and Charles have not stayed together for more than a year. A year after she comes to Orion, Raven enrolls into the best Medical college that, unfortunately, happens to be on the opposite side of the planet. Even though she chooses to work in a hospital in Charles' city when she graduates, it's on the opposite end from where he lives. It made rushing for emergencies a nightmare, so she had chosen to stay in the employees' quarters beside the hospital. The arrangement is practical, of course, but it doesn't mean that Charles likes it, because now, he sees so little of his sister.

As promised, Raven comes home that Sunday and brings them lunch in the form of what she dubs as the 'best burgers in town'. It’s been so long since he’d spent time with her that Charles finds himself in high spirits as they sit to eat on the balcony with their beers and burgers. As though sharing his joy, Ymir shines cheerfully on the horizon. 

The burgers are bloody good, Charles has to admit. He should get the name and address of the joint, so that Charles can drag Erik the next time he's on Orion.

As they eat, Charles tries to wheedle out the reason for her grumpiness the day after Valentine's. Though she denies vehemently at first, she gives up eventually. 'You know my fuck buddy? The one who works in Pediatrics?'

Unfortunately, Charles does know her. 'Irene?'

Raven nods around a bite. Swallowing, she says, 'She doesn't want anything to do with me anymore.'

'I thought you liked her,' Charles supplies, because whenever Raven had spoken of Irene, it had been with respect. And  _ that  _ in Raven’s books is liking.

'I did,’ she admits, reaching for her beer, ‘But she wanted to take things further and I didn’t. So now, she’s pissed with me and our arrangement is down the drain.'

'Would it so bad?' Charles asks, putting his burger down. ‘You could have given it a shot if you really liked her.’

'What, relationships?' Raven's face twists around the word harshly, as though just the thought of it pains her.

Charles nods as he takes a swig from his own beer.

Raven shudders so violently at the implication that it wouldn't have been funny if Charles hadn't received the same reaction from Erik as well when he'd broached the topic of relationships with the former.

'Please Charles,' she says. 'I have neither the patience nor the time for it. A good fuck on a regular basis is all I need right now. No strings attached.'

Charles can't help but cringe. He and Raven may be close, but there are things a brother simply needn't know about his little sister.

'What? Don't give me that face. Actually, so do you.'

'Me?' Charles raises his brows.

Raven nods. 'You need to get laid more often. It'll solve all your problems.'

Charles chuckles. 'Pray tell me, dear sister, what problems are those?'

'The depressing lack of sex in your relationship.'

Charles humours her. 'And which relationship is that exactly?'

Raven gives him a look; a look that accuses him of being purposefully dense. 'You've been in only one relationship all your life, Charles.'

And just like that the genial atmosphere evaporates. Charles knows where this conversation is headed, and he’s tired and weary of it before it even begins. 'Raven…' he drawls. 

'What? I'm only saying how I see things-’. 

‘-Raven, please. We’ve been over this.’ They have. Multiple times over the past couple of years.

It was all fun in the beginning when she teased and pulled his leg for being in what she called the ‘galaxy’s longest relationship’ with Erik. But it stopped being funny as time passed and as Charles began to scrutinise his feelings for Erik more and more. Like a white dwarf pulsing meekly in space, each scrutiny left his heart a little more bereft in its aftermath.

Raven stares at him for a long moment, her golden eyes intent on his face. A gentle breeze blows between them. With an intent he’s seldom seen in her, she parrots his words, ‘Would it be so bad?’

‘Yes. It would,’ Charles snaps. ‘I don’t want to trap him in a relationship he doesn’t want to be in.’

Raven looks at him, head slanted, like Charles is one of her anatomy specimens she can’t decide how to operate on, and slowly shakes her head. ‘God, how can you be this brilliant and still be so dumb?’ His confusion must have shown on his face, because she continues, ‘Why would someone who doesn’t want to be with you ask you to marry him?’

'That was ten years ago, Raven.' Ten years ago when they both were too young to care. Besides, it was sweet of Erik to offer when Charles had been crestfallen. But that's all it was, is, and ever be- a sweet gesture. Nothing more. Charles is no more twenty-one to build air-castles in his head and live off of them. 

'And what if he wants to marry you when the ten years are up?'

'Then he would have brought up the matter at least once in the last nine and a half years,' Charles says in a tone that brooks no argument. 'Besides, a marriage must be for love. Not for deals or pacts or worse, pity. I may be eager for a relationship, Raven, but I'm not that desperate. I won't trap anyone in a loveless marriage, and definitely not my best friend.'

Raven looks at him, sharp and focussed. ‘And don't you love him?’

Charles wants to deny it, to look into her eyes and say that,  _ no,  _ he doesn't love Erik. But his voice doesn't trespass the barrier of his lips, where it’s buried under the weight of his feelings. He looks away, and towards the horizon. In the distance, the white clouds are darkening, whispering promises of rain in the evening.

'It doesn't matter, Raven,' he says at last. 'He doesn't.' The words sting anyway, pricking and bruising his heart. His words echo between them as they drop to silence, focussing on finishing their meals.

The blue clouds forming in the distance remind him of Hyperion. Of his mother and him and a small girl he met in a kitchen.

'Can I ask you something from you?' Charles asks turning towards Raven.

She regards him for a moment and says, 'Shoot.'

'Can you promise me that you won't bring up this topic again?' And when he doesn't receive an answer from her, he adds more quietly, 'Please.'

Raven sighs heavily-- like the fight has finally left her-- and nods her head slowly. She isn't happy about it, Charles knows, but Charles is thankful for it beyond words can express. 'Thank you.'

'But on one condition,' Raven says after a long minute. Charles braces himself for whatever she's about to say, but only relief floods him when she smirks. 'I'm sure as hell not going to stop trying to get you laid. That's just unhealthy, Charles.'

Charles chuckles despite himself. 'Okay.'

'Good. You need to change your wardrobe, too!’

Charles chuckles and takes another swig from his beer. 'And why should I do that?' he asks after swallowing.

'So that you don't die single,' she quips. 'Who even wears cardigans these days, Charles? And tweed jackets! God, did the trend not burn away with Vulcan? And you should stop talking Genetics to everyone you meet, Charles. When people flirt with you, they want to hear how hot they're, not how KGM-6 genes work or whatever it is.’

'I've had some success despite my shortcomings, I'll have you know,' Charles says, smiling.

Raven snorts. 'Success? Which of your conquests do you consider as success? Who was that guy who was obsessed with your nipples? Oh, and the guy who couldn't get it up until he had a sex bot work on him… That's a classic, I tell you.'

Charles turns pink to the tips is his ears. He bends a little to swat at her arm. 'Stop it!'

Raven doesn’t. Knowing her, she’ll probably drag him from one store to another all around Orion in a bid to change his wardrobe. But that’s a small price to pay for having her in his life and keep her from bringing up Erik.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, remember what happened the last time Charles was on the Caspertina!!? Remember?


	4. Earth-616 (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I won't deny that this chapter is one of the reasons I started this AU. Because I JUST WANTED this chapter to exist, albeit in a poor way, but EXIST!
> 
> This chapter is also dedicated to the awesome ournextdoorneighbor, because they love kid aus! :D
> 
> FOKLS, IN THIS WE GO BACK IN TIME!! :D

Orion doesn't have a race of its own. The planet is a pit stop for those traveling from the Ymir to the Tarvos systems. The inhabitants are a mix of races. Amongst them are Hyperions, with their cobalt blue skin and red hair, Setians with their red skin and whip-like tails, Titans with blue fur and claws, and humans; like Charles. 

It might not be a miracle, but Charles feels like it is when in a million people on the planet, he meets another boy from Earth-616. 

Erik.

Charles remembers the day all too well. The day he holds out the unresponsive e-libpad and asks the boy in the scrap yard he’d spotted on his way home if he could repair it. The boy looks-- no glares at Charles with eyes that reminded him of cold plasma drifting through dead space. 

The next day Charles ventures into the scrap yard again--sans an unresponsive piece of tech-- and settles on the lone bench--at least what looks like one-- and fishes out his notepad. He should be going home, but his mother would be in one party or another, and the monstrosity of their house is easy to get lost in. The array of bots his mother had procured are no match for human company, especially the company of another boy of his own age; a potential friend.

The man who owns the scrapyard, Janos, is a kind man and doesn't mind Charles' presence all that much. He offers Charles a glass of water and tells him to be careful around the flaring plasma guns. So despite the disgruntled groans and disapproving glances the boy throws his way, Charles finds himself in the scrap yard after school the next day, the day after that and the one after. Charles concentrates on his homework while the boy drills holes into metal or moulds silicone in the background. Who knew that there’d be a semblance of peace in the small space filled with debris and burning metal?

'It won't work if you don't heat it enough,' Charles says one day when he sees the taller boy struggling to turn on the plasma blaster from the corner of his eye. Though the boy glares at him, Charles gets up from his spot and walks up to the workbench. ‘The vibrantium inside won’t start to sublime until it’s heated to 700 degrees K.’ The boy looks at Charles as though he'd sported two heads, but seems to catch up with Charles' reasoning with ease. The boy sets the plasma blaster on heating mode and fires it when the buzzer goes off. 

'Erik,' the boy provides a name begrudgingly, and Charles beams. 

Charles clings on to Erik after that- follows him around the scrap yard as Erik works and peppers him with questions, and when Erik glares or grunts at him, answers those questions himself. He doesn't have friends at school and there's no one at home to talk to, so he's determined to make the most of his time with Erik. Sometimes, he’s successful in getting a word or two out of Erik, and other times, he isn’t.

‘Do you live here?’ Charles asks one day when they're sitting down during Erik's break to munch on a pack of biscuits Janos had got them when he had returned from Tethys.

Surprisingly, Erik answers. ‘Yes, I live in that room,’ he says pointing to a small alcove beneath a flight of stairs- a narrow mattress and a set of pillow and blanket its only occupants.

‘And what is it that you do here?’

'I'm a Scrapper,' Erik tells him. 

'Meaning?' Charles asks.

'Adamantium is a hazardous waste on Phoebe, but on Tethys, they use it to build houses. Janos collects all the Adamantium from Phoebe. I disassemble and separate it from other debris here and Janos sells it on Tethys. Similarly, Silicone is a waste on Mimas, but highly valued on Titan. _ One man’s waste is another man’s treasure _, so Janos tells me. So he utilises that opportunity for business.’

'How old are you?' Charles asks. Erik might be a head taller than him, but he isn't old enough to work legally. 

'Thirteen.' Erik frowns, and then shrugs. 'I guess.'

"Don't you go to school?'

'No,' Erik says, tone clipped.

'Don't your parents say anything?' Charles asks. His mother would be furious with him if she found out that he spends his time at the scrap-yard after school, let alone miss it.

The fierce glare Erik throws his way and the silent treatment he gives Charles for the next few days in succession is the only indication that Charles had said something he shouldn’t have. His apology, however, is met with more glares.

Erik may not go to school, but that doesn’t stop Charles from bringing school to Erik. So Charles reads his text books aloud as Erik quietly works beside him, sometimes listing out the star systems and planets in each of them, and some other times, the projectile of space ships. Sometimes, Charles reads a book from his e-libpad or rarely brings a paperback from his father’s collection.

Erik doesn’t acknowledge Charles as he reads aloud following the taller boy around his tracks, but once in a while Erik will pause in his path or stop the whining plasma gun in his hand for a minute or two to concentrate on a dialogue or solve a problem before resuming his work.

His mother is under the impression that Charles spends his time with a friend after school before reaching home for supper, only she doesn’t know the nature of the friend or the friend's place. For once in his life, Charles is thankful for her ignorance. 

Sometimes, Janos takes Erik along with him on a job. They disappear for days on end. Charles goes home directly from school on such days and reads a book from his e-libpad aloud, all the while imagining Erik's quiet presence working beside him. But it's not the same without Erik's grunt or his approving hum.

It's almost winter by the time Janos returns with a packet of Tarvan chocolates for Charles. There's a gaping hole in the side of Erik's shirt when Charles greets him on his return. 

It's only then that Charles realises that the hem of Erik’s trousers rests above his ankles. Though Erik’s just a year older than him, he’s a head taller than Charles. So the next day, Charles digs through his wardrobe and packs all his oversized clothes into a bag and takes it to the scrapyard. Of everything that Charles had expected Erik to be, furious isn’t one of them when he holds up a dark jacket with a huge smile.

‘Why are these clothes here?’ Erik growls.

‘You can’t wear torn clothes during winter. You’ll freeze to death,’ Charles says.

‘I’ll pass by.’ Erik shoves Charles out of his way and walks up to the disc radiator lying on his work bench. ‘Besides, it’s not your concern.’

‘It is my concern,’ Charles protests, putting the jacket down, ‘You’re my friend! Of course, it’s my concern.’

Erik snaps his head up so fast that Charles winces in sympathy for his neck. He stares at Charles for some more time and then barks out, ‘Then don’t ever treat me like a charity case again.’

Erik doesn’t acknowledge that Charles is his friend, but at least he begins to treat Charles like one after that.

Charles’ mother finds out about Erik over a year later, not because she had been paying attention to his whereabouts, no; but because Charles invites Erik to his fourteenth birthday. As if by miracle alone, Erik attends it-- clad in a coat so large for him that it leaves little for guessing that it belongs to Janos. It’s clear that his mother resents Erik in more ways than one, but her fine features doesn’t betray her dissent.

Her disapproval doesn’t matter, because, two years later when Charles graduates out of school a full two years ahead of his peers, and top of the class, no less, it’s not his mother, but Erik who’s stood at the back as the valedictory service proceeds; a proud smile on his face, and a card that reads: _ On top of the class today and on top of the world tomorrow! _

When Charles asks how he knew, Erik responds with a fond smile, ‘I always did.’

‘My parents died on Earth-616,’ Erik tells him, gaze fixed on the dimming horizon. They’re sitting on the hood of a worn out spaceship in the scrapyard sipping cheap beer to celebrate Charles’ graduation-- Charles still clad in his graduating robe. ‘The factory they worked in caught fire and everyone in it died.’ That night, Erik tells him about his parents- how his mother made him chicken soup when he was ill and how his father taught him how to melt metal, their house by the creek and the friends he played with. Charles in turn tells Erik about his father, his love for research, science, and paperbacks. They trade stories through the night and fall asleep leaning on each other and holding hands. 

Ymir shines a little brighter when it rises the next day.

Two months later, Charles’ mother passes away. Liver cirrhosis is the diagnosis. Even though Charles had seen it coming in one way or another, it doesn’t soothe the pain. The enormity of the house magnifies her absence, and after a few days, it becomes intolerable. So he sells the house and buys a small space in the corner of the city with minimal facilities- a hall, bedroom and kitchen. After all, it’s only him who’ll be staying in it.

Janos falls prey to a fever that winter, and his condition makes it difficult for space travel. So he hires a distant relative to assist Erik with the jobs. 

Azazel.

Azazel is a Setian-- with a red face aggravated with sharp features and jet black hair bordering it. His cruel features, however, stand in stark contrast with his gentle demeanor, a kind heart and a friendly smile. Even though he’s only a few months older than Erik, he comes with a greater knowledge of space trade than Janos and Erik combined. As the days progress, Erik and Azazel take off on jobs more frequently while Janos stays behind in the scrap yard. 

Charles enrolls into university that year, opting for specialisation in biochemistry and genetics. His demanding schedule at the university devours his time. He has enough material on his hands to catch up with leaving him with no time to make friends. When he does have time, however, he spends it with Janos in the scrapyard.

Janos’ health slowly deteriorates. Azazel comes to pick up Charles at the crack of dawn on a spring morning with tear tracks on his face. ‘Janos is no more,’ he says and his voice wobbles before he bursts into tears.

Janos leaves Erik and Azazel with his scrapyard and spaceship.

The more and more they disappear on jobs to distant planets, less practical and increasingly difficult it becomes for Erik and Azazel to look after the scrapyard. So after a few months, they sell their possessions and buy a small warehouse to store the essential goods. They invest the remaining sum on a bigger and more advanced spaceship. 

Charles’ lynk-pad chimes one afternoon when he’s in college in the middle of a lecture. There’s a message from Erik when he pulls it out, and it and reads: _ Come outside. Near the Amenity grounds. _

Erik’s standing in a black leather jacket and aviators with his hands behind his back when Charles reaches the grounds. A Magenta spaceship looms in the distance behind him.

‘That,’ Erik hooks his thumb over his shoulder, ‘is our ticket to space trade, Charles. How is it?’ Erik asks with a shit eating grin, the kind of grin that reminds Charles of Kari’s sea creatures.

‘Really, Erik, Magenta?’

‘Technically, it’s Magenta dusted with metallic grey,’ Erik protests, ‘Besides, the colour was Az’s choice. Come on, I’ll give you a tour.’

‘No, I have to get back to class. I was in the middle of a lecture.’

Erik rolls his eyes and pulls on Charles’ wrist. ‘The world’s not going to end if you skip a lecture, Charles. You’ll top your university even if you don’t attend a single one.’

‘You don’t know that.’ Charles frowns.

‘Not only do I know, but I’m willing to bet on it. Now, come on.’

And when Charles does top the university next year, it’s Erik standing with a bottle of cheap champagne in his hands and a fond smile on his face. It’s also Erik who pushes him into pursuing all three of his PhDs.

Just like it’s Erik whom Charles runs to after he first kissed a girl when he was fifteen, and kissed a boy when he was sixteen. It’s Erik who bought him his first beer. It’s Erik who taught him how to ride a sky-ski. It’s Erik who was there for him when his partners ditched him every single time. It’s Erik whom he seeks for comfort after a bad day… It’s just.... Erik.

They say that you’ll know the exact moment you fall in love. But Charles doesn’t. He doesn’t realise it’s love when he feels jealous of the girls ogling Erik from across the campus when the former comes to show Magneto, he doesn’t realise it’s love when Erik whisks him from his own birthday party every year and takes him on a long drive around the city on his sky-ski, he doesn’t realise it’s love when Erik proposes to marry him on a spring evening when he’s twenty-one and crestfallen from being dumped. 

Charles' realisation comes slowly; like swathes of hot gases swirling, rising and compressing under its own gravity, heating and cooling and coiling around itself, so slowly and unconsciously that it collapses under its own temperature and pressure and bursts free from itself to form a new star.

When he’s twenty-four, Charles realises that he’s in love with his best friend.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn't very clear, an e-libpad is sort of an electronic library, and absolutely made-up, just like most of this fic


	5. Loge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter of the fic. So strap in folks, the angst engine is ready to roll

Sharon Xavier dutifully organises a birthday party for Charles every year. It’s a grandiose affair with a three-tier cake, immaculate decorations, flowing wine and a tenth of Orion's elite society in attendance. His mother fusses over the perfection of the evening, and her guests fuss over her and their prestigious mien. That’s probably why no one notices the sky-ski whirring below the house-- standing out starkly amongst the posh sky-cars-- or the boy in a dark leather jacket grinning atop it with two head-visors in hand. They don't notice Charles sneaking out of the backdoor and hopping on to the sky-ski that whizzes away a few seconds later into ski-way traffic. They don't realise that the birthday boy is missing from his own birthday party. 

Even after his mother passes away, it becomes something of a tradition between them. No matter in which part of the Galaxy or universe he's in at the time, Erik shows up below his house on a whirring sky-ski, clad in a dark leather jacket; a carefree smile on his lips and two head-visors in hand. 

For Charles' fifteenth birthday, Erik gifts him a personalised planetarium, hand made from metal scraps. For his eighteenth birthday, Charles gets a state of the art N-grade telescope from Erik. For his twenty-third birthday, Erik gifts him a first edition, paperback copy of Charles' favourite novel, 'The Once and Future King'. As rare to none as they come, Erik, till date won't tell him which planet he unearthed it from. For his twenty-eighth birthday, Erik gifts him a cardigan woven out of rich Pallenee wool, renowned as the softest wool in that side of the Galaxy. 

After nearly three years of coaxing, Erik finally agrees to take Charles to the dockstrap for his thirtieth birthday. Erik hovers below his house on his sky-ski in a black leather jacket and two head-visors in hand. As they take off into the ski-way traffic, Charles winds his hands around Erik's waist and presses his cheek to the valley of Erik's broad shoulders. Beneath the scents of leather and aftershave is Erik’s own musk- male, rich and decadent. The crisp evening air hits Charles’ face when he hooks his chin above Erik's shoulder prompting a laugh out of the latter. Amused, Erik speeds up, so that now, they're zipping past the city. Charles hugs Erik tighter as the breeze buoys his heart a little higher in his chest. 

The dockstrap, simply put, is a hovering port for the trading ships that come and go out of Orion. The ground below it, bursts with activities; traders and customers deep in business. Overhead, the sky lights up in the colours of the zoning spaceships and the intricately-woven ski-ways that connect the docks with the trading stations, a dozen sky-skis and sky-cars flashing across the sky in a sundry of neons. The hums of the whirring spaceships and the groans of the zipping sky-skis and cars bemoan to the ground below. 

In a bid to compete, the trading stations below are awash with life and colours of their own- billboards glowing in front of shops, the multitude of eateries, each lit up uniquely to attract customers, and the lodges and motels for those in transit. The throngs of people that crowd the narrow roads below are a hotchpotch of races- Setians, Hatians, Tethians, Hyperions, Palleneans and Humans. Dozens of bots zoom around aiding their Masters in business. 

Charles takes in everything with hungry eyes and a hung jaw. 

'You work here?' Charles asks in awe and Erik chuckles. 

'Yes and No.' When Charles raises a brown in question, Erik clarifies, ‘Az and I are on-shore traders, as in we travel between planets to collect and sell our goods. But if we claim a planet to be our base, we aren't allowed to trade directly on that planet without partnering with off-shore traders. See these shops?' Erik points to the endless line of shops stretching ahead of them on either side of the narrow street. 'All these people are off-shore traders, meaning that they'll only receive and dispatch goods they receive from on-shore traders, market and expand the business on the base planet. And in return they get a share of the profits.'

'Your business is set up here, isn’t it?’ When Erik nods in assent, Charles asks, ‘So who are your partners?'

Erik smirks. 'Come on, I'll introduce you to the punks.' 

The _ punks _turn out to be two young lads-- somewhere in their early twenties-- Alex with a neon green mohawk and multiple piercings running up and down his ears, and Sean with a head full of bright orange hair, manning a small shop at the end of a lane. The boys smile tightly and shake Charles' hand as though they expect Charles to punch them any moment. Charles sighs internally. Of course, they expect Erik’s friend to be just like Erik. He ponders on leaving his contact with them and asking them to message him whenever Erik troubles them, but then, he’d have to spend every waking moment with a message from either Alex or Sean, so Charles just resigns to waving them goodbye. 

'You shouldn't terrorise your partners like that, Erik,' Charles reprimands him when they move ahead. Anyone with sense in their head can tell that the two boys are terrified of Erik.

'They're more my employees than my partners. Those two were shitty smugglers, and got caught by the association three years ago. Az and I pulled some strings and freed them. We set up this shop, and they've been taking care of it ever since. So technically, I’m their boss.’

A bot approached them before Charles can reprimand Erik that him being the boss doesn’t excuse his behaviour. _ May I be of service to you, gentlemen? _ Its smooth voice says. 

Erik grabs Charles wrist and grits at the bot. ‘Fuck off.’

‘Erik!’ Charles gasps. ‘Don’t be so rude.’

‘Fine then. Please fuck off.’ Erik says as the bot walks away from them with a wave.

Even as he’s torn between laughing and swatting Erik in the arm, Charles asks with a dour facade, ‘Did you have to be that crass?’

‘I did.’ Erik shrugs. ‘Those sexbots are sleazy. The faster you get away from them, the better. One moment they’re sweet-talking to you and the next moment they're pulling money out of your pockets.’

Charles turns beet red instantly, and thanks to his sour luck, like a shark on a blood trail in water, Erik catches upon it. ‘You didn’t know it was a sexbot, did you?’ he asks with a shit-eating grin.

‘Of course, I knew,’ Charles huffs out indignantly, but they burst out laughing when neither of them can keep a straight face.

The crowd thickens as they enter the side-roads and Erik pulls Charles to his side. 'Stay close to me. It's very easy to get lost here.'

Charles loops his left arm with Erik's proffered right one and sticks to the taller man's side, Erik’s warmth a welcome comfort against the chill breeze. They walk arm-in-arm slowly for another hour as Erik points to different shops and goods or explains trade laws and rules. The air chills further as the night progresses. Erik removes his jacket and forces it on to Charles' frame citing that the latter's nose has turned red. They stop by a street vendor selling sandwiches and ice cream and Erik buys them dinner. They roam around the crowded streets ‘til it's way past midnight like that- arm-in-arm, drowned in each other's company and lost to the world around them. 

A party of two.

All the while, Charles imagines them to be out on something more than a birthday celebration and Erik to be something more than his best friend.

*

Just like Charles had anticipated, Raven drags him around every high-end, designer boutique in the city in a frenzy to reform his wardrobe. While Charles cares little for his attire or anything to do with its transformation, putting up with his sister and her antiques also means spending that much more time with her, and there are not many things Charles wouldn't do to spend a few hours with Raven every day.

‘There’s something called as dating sites, you know,’ Raven berates him on a Saturday evening. ‘You don’t even have to step out of the house. You can meet your potential dates in virtual chat rooms, Charles.’

‘Call me old-fashioned, but I like to meet people in person, Raven. Online dating is… creepy,’ Charles says, putting two cubes of sugar in his tea. He adds another one after reconsideration.

‘God, you make me feel like we’re living in the stone ages.’ Raven groans. ‘Fine. At least, will you go out on the dates I set you up on?’

‘When have I ever said no to you?’ Charles says sweetly and grins when she groans again. His tea is just the right side of sweet when he sips on it.

At the end of that week, Raven gets an invitation to a workshop in Tethys. 

‘I’ve been waiting three months for this,’ she squeals in excitement that weekend when she comes to meet him. The grin, however, falls from her face when she asks, ‘You’ll be alright by yourself for a month, won’t you?’ 

The fact that he’ll miss her terribly for an entire month is an understatement, but Raven is thrilled about the workshop, and seeing her happy makes him smile. ‘The real question is, dear sister,’ he says pinching her nose, ‘Will you be?’ Charles laughs aloud when she pokes her tongue out at him.

Charles tightly hugs his sister before she boards her shuttle for Tethys, and though Raven pretends to be above this, she hugs him back just as tightly. 

With Raven and Erik gone, Charles feels truly alone. Even growing up, he never had friends in school or college, because between Erik, Raven and Azazel, he never felt the dearth of company. Things didn’t change much once he started his tenure as a Professor of Genetics in the city’s most prestigious University. He knows and has met a lot of people in his career, of course, but none of those acquaintances have stuck on beyond the campus walls. The occasional coffee shared with his colleague Darwin or lunch with Moira has not transcended to anything personal.

Even with a profession and career he’s passionate about, Charles’ life isn’t truly exciting.

He wakes up early in the morning, finishes breakfast and leaves for work. At the university, his classes are slow-- and they probably will be for the next two months. With the eighth cycle in full swing, the students are buried nose deep in labs, projects and internships, rendering the classes nearly empty. Charles returns home around late afternoon and prepares dinner. There are an array of bots available in the market to do all the chores around the house, but Charles never invested in one to begin with. With the kind of time he has on his hands, he can clean his entire house twice and still be left with time to prepare dinner. Some days after coming back from the University, Charles cleans the house and marks a few essays before going to bed. Some other days, he orders cerebro to read a book and falls asleep to the lulling a voice of the AI. 

Raven calls him when she has the time and tells him about the workshop or chastises him for not going to a club and getting laid. Her calls are the highlight of Charles’ day. 

Charles contemplates calling Erik more than once. But the last time Erik had been on a job to the Loge system, Charles hadn’t heard from him for four months. He doesn’t want to call and disturb Erik when he’s in the middle of a job, or asleep, for something as silly as an unsuccessful experiment or just to hear his voice.

On days that are morose and his mood even more so, Charles considers taking up on Raven’s advice- of walking into a bar, flirting with a hot guy and getting laid. But Charles knows that he could never see through. He has never been good at casual flings or one night stands, and he probably never will be.

On the weekends, Charles goes on dates that Raven sets him up on. Though Raven had reprimanded him for bringing up scientific gibberish on dates, that’s all Charles knows as a topic of conversation. With some of his dates, the apathy is evident from the get go. Some are nice, and even though they listen to him rant on about mutation and evolution, it’s more out of gallantry than interest. At the end of every date, Charles comes home all alone to an empty house and suffocating loneliness. 

Two years. It’s almost been two years since his last boyfriend left him and Charles is tired of the search. Tired of being rejected time and again. Why can’t he find someone like everyone else? Even bots have better luck at a love life than him. Why can’t he find someone who doesn’t accuse of him being boring, someone who doesn’t mind his ‘geekiness’ or someone who doesn’t leave him because he’s clingy and overbearing.

It would be nice to come home to anything other than his empty house. Maybe a boyfriend whom he could call his own. Someone to talk to, share his interests and passions with, someone who would hold him while they cuddle on the sofa and watch movies, someone who would read to him, make him tea every morning and kiss him goodnight.

Inevitably, all those thoughts lead to Erik, and that Erik would never be that someone. Erik doesn’t believe in relationships. In all the years Charles has known him, Erik hasn’t been in one. He has neither the time nor the inkling. Not that Charles has a chance with him even if Erik did decide to commit to someone. Erik is handsome, charismatic and well travelled. In his dark leather jackets and combat boots, he’s everyone’s idea of a bad boy with a golden heart. And Charles is a nerd, an old fart, clingy, needy and naive. Why would anyone want to end up with him, let alone Erik?

*

** _[2029:03:026, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Raven is still in Tethys on Charles’ birthday. He spends the first half of his day in University and reaches home earlier than usual, nervously anticipating Erik’s arrival at any moment. He knows logically that Erik cannot make it. It takes fifteen days just to reach the edge of the Loge system and another week to navigate between its planets. Between the numerous jobs Erik has on all the planets, there’s no way that he could leave for Orion. But a small hope lingers in his chest. _ Erik might come after all _. And as the day progresses, that hope festers enough to warm Charles’ heart.

Sometime after Ymir dips in the horizon, Cerebro vibrates once on his wrist. _ Professor, you have an incoming call from Raven. _Her hologram appears in front of him-- looking tired and work worn in her white overcoat-- and she wishes him a happy birthday. They speak for a few minutes before she’s needed back in the conference. 

Charles dawns on his best jumper-- a soft old lilac wool one--over a dress shirt and dress slacks and spends the rest of the evening restlessly, glancing every now and then below the house, expecting to see Erik hovering below his house in a sky-ski, clad in a dark leather jacket and holding two head-visors in hand. But Erik doesn’t show up. Not even when midnight approaches. The hope inside his chest crumples on itself.

Charles should retire to bed--he has classes the next day-- but he can’t sleep. Not with every one of his thoughts honed on Erik. So he collects the spare blanket and pillow-- the one Erik uses every time he sleeps over-- and settles on the couch with one eye trained on the yard below his house and the other on a paperback. If he thinks he can still smell the aftershave Erik uses on the blanket and the pillows, then it’s only Charles’ mind playing tricks on him. 

When sleep finds Charles, it’s fitful and futile in calming his racing mind. The next morning, his pillow is wet, and there’s an ache in heart which doesn’t abate for a very long time.

*

** _[2029:04:010, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

When Raven walks out of the shuttle from Tethys, Charles is there at the docks with a huge grin on his face to hug her in welcome.

A week later, Raven’s hospital hosts a charity gala and Charles gets dragged to it as her plus one. It's the ostentatious kind-- a black-tie event held in one of the finest ballrooms on Orion, so Charles is forced to fish out his old tux from the bottom of his wardrobe.

The event itself is not all that bad. The setting is old and familiar, reminding Charles of all the parties his mother held; but it's still boring with Raven abandoning him to flirt with the hot bartender. Apart from Betsy and Irene, Charles doesn't know much of her other colleagues or friends.

As Charles watches the party bloom in front of him from the side lines, he wishes Erik was with him, commenting on everything that caught his eye. Erik's dark sense of humour was what enabled Charles to endure his mother's parties.

After spending months either at the University or cooped up at home, Charles can't deny that it's a nice change to dress up, sip fine wine and pretend that everything is fine in his life. Charles is sipping on the said wine when a man approaches him. He quells the laughter that bubbles up his chest imagining the snide remark Erik would no doubt make at the red transparent glasses perched upon the bridge of the man's nose.

'I haven't seen you around the hospital. Do you work there?' the man asks, leaning on a pillar beside Charles.

'No. I don't. But my sister does.' Charles points to Raven, still perched on a bar stool, only now, flirting with a brunette. 'Raven, she's a cardiac surgeon.'

'Ah, I know, Raven. But I have a bone to pick with her, because she didn't tell me that she has such a gorgeous brother.'

Charles almost chokes on his wine.

'Oh my, where are my manners? I'm Scott. Scott Summers.' The man--no Scott-- extends his hand that isn't latching on to a champagne flute.

'Charles Xavier. Pleased to meet you.'

Charles and Scott talk all through the evening and leave the gala with each other's contacts. So It doesn't come as a surprise when three days later, Cerebro reads out a message from Scott asking if he'd be up for dinner the coming Friday. Charles agrees readily.

‘Do you have any place in mind?’ Scott asks. 

Charles grins. ‘I may know a place which serves the best prawns.’

Raven comes over on Friday to make sure Charles isn't dressed like an 'old fart'. 

The date goes swimmingly well, they spend it talking about Charles' work at the University and Scott's work at the hospital. Scott’s a cardiac surgeon, too, albeit a visiting one for sometime now in Raven's hospital. No stranger to Raven’s constant ranting, Charles catches up with Scott’s explanations and terminologies with more ease when the latter talks about his work.

‘Cerebro, call Erik,’ he orders the AI that night after returning home. Giddy with joy that he is, he wants to tell everything-- about Scott and about his date. But the call is met with a static. Crestfallen, he drops Erik a message: _ I hope you're doing alright, my friend. _ A reply, however, doesn’t come.

Over the weeks, the first date rolls on to the second, and the second to the third. Scott is smart, well-read, polite, well-mannered and charming. The fact that he's easy on the eyes is a fabulous bonus. Scott's a good kisser, and after the fourth date, Charles learns that the sex is good as well. The fact that Scott’s born into a prestigious and wealthy family would make his mother extremely happy in her grave. In every way, Dr. Scott Summers is the man his mother would have been extremely proud of.

Charles anticipates a catch, because it’s a little surreal that he’s dating someone as good as Scott, but it never comes. As the days progress, Scott doesn’t mention if their relationship is heading down the serious road or not, and though it goes against the very fibre of his being, Charles doesn't push it, because the prospect of Scott accusing him of not giving breathing space, calling him clingy and pushy, and leaving him is not appealing or desired.

That weekend, Scott takes Charles to a high-end sports bar to introduce him to his friends. ‘Everyone,’ Scott says, snaking a hand around Charles’ waist, ‘Meet my boyfriend, Charles.’

‘Is that what we are now?’ Charles whispers into Scott’s ear and shudders when Scott answers, ‘Yes.’

Charles sighs a little heavily when they have sex that night. 

Thanks to their shared grounds of profession and hospital gossip, Raven and Scott get on like a house on fire. The three of them hang out when their schedules permit, with either dinners at a restaurant or with movies in Charles’ or Scott’s house. 

‘Are you happy?’ Raven asks him one day when it’s just the two of them enjoying a case of beers she had brought over. 

Charles chuckles. ‘Whatever do you mean, dear sister?’

‘Are you happy?’ she asks again with a seriousness that doesn’t suit her, ‘You know... with Scott.’

‘Of course, I’m happy with Scott. Any man would be lucky to be with him.’

She hums and returns to her beer. But that doesn’t stop her from occasionally throwing Charles a look when he’s with Scott. A look so intense as if it enables her to see the depths of his soul. Charles, on his part, doesn’t want to know what she’s looking for, or more importantly, what she finds. 

*

Charles begins to panic when he doesn’t hear from Erik even after four months. Every call that Charles makes is met with a static. He tries Azazel’s contact, and that too, is met with the same fate. What if something had gone wrong? What if something had happened to Erik? What if the spaceship cra- Charles shakes his head violently to shake his head away from such thoughts. He doesn’t want to put thoughts to his fears. Still, he can’t help the niggling terror that creeps up and resides in his heart. 

‘What if something had to him?’ Charles tells Raven one day.

‘You said yourself that you didn't hear from him the last time he went to the Loge system,’ Raven tries to reason.

‘He didn’t call much, yes. But that’s more due to the time difference. He texted occasionally of his whereabouts. I remember calling only once last time and the call had connected. It wasn’t this radio silence.’

‘Did you try calling Az?’ she asks, and Charles nods. 

‘First, stop worrying your lip,’ Raven says, pointing to his face. Charles immediately releases his lip where he’d been unconsciously chewing on it. ‘And don’t worry so much, Charles. I’m sure he’s alright. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep trying to connect to the both of them as well and let you know if I get through.’

Amused despite himself, Charles asks, ‘Both of them? So do you have Azazel’s contact too?’ The smirk on his face is enough to convey his meaning, and Raven groans catching it. ‘I only have it for emergencies, okay. It’s not like I’m constantly calling or texting him.’

‘I don’t mind even if you did Raven,’ he says and laughs when she threatens to murder him with a tablet.

Fortunately, Erik calls two days later before his festering fears manifests into full-blown panic.

Charles' heart thuds out of his chest when Cerebro announces that evening that he has an incoming call from Erik. Thankfully, he’s alone at home, so nobody witnesses him choking on a mouthful of tea to order Cerebro to receive it.

A hologram of Erik pops up as Cerebro begins to project the video in front of him.

‘Hello, Charles!’ Erik grins at him, the kind of grin that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and scrunches up his nose. Charles’ heart stutters to a full stop. 

‘I’m cross with you,’ Charles says in lieu of greeting.

The light in Erik’s eyes dull and his smile fades. ‘Is it because I wasn’t there for your birthday? I’m sorry, Charles. I really wanted to come. But I was caught up in the middle of something,’ Erik says remorsefully and Charles kicks himself internally.

‘No, not that. For scaring me, you idiot. Not a single call in five months. Five months, Erik! Do you know how many times I have tried to call you? I was worried sick.’

'I'm sorry for worrying you. A massive star flare destroyed the system's power grids a few days after we landed here. I would have called otherwise. You know I would have.' 

Now that he’s sure that Erik is fine, Charles takes a moment to truly see Erik. The light scruff that perpetually dusts Erik’s square jaw has grown into a full beard and a beanie hugs his skull. His cheeks have sunk in, pronouncing his sharp cheekbones further. Charles thinks of reprimanding Erik for not eating properly, but he’ll do that when he sees Erik in person, when Erik doesn’t have a chance to wave off his concerns. 'Well, yes. You're lucky that I know you so well. Where are you now?'

'That I am,’ Erik agrees with a smile. ‘We’re on Pallene now. Just reached here. We should be reaching Orion in ten days time. What did you do on your birthday?'

'I went to University. Taught my children and read a book after I came home.'

'What?’ Erik frowns. Pallene’s star, Tarvos shines in the background, rendering a golden glow on the changing angles of Erik’s face. ’Where was Raven?'

'Raven was on Tethys attending a workshop.'

'Well, I'm sorry that you had to spend it alone,’ Erik says somberly. The thing is, Charles already knows, so he waves Erik off. 'It's fine, Erik. Please stop apologising. Anyway, I have some news. I've met someone.'

Erik’s face blooms. 'Really? Who is it? What does he do?'

'His name is Scott, and he's a cardiac surgeon.'

'Cardiac surgeon, huh? Impressive. Dr. Charles and Dr. Scott. Fancy that.’ Erik smirks. ‘For how long has it been going on, Professor?'

Charles laughs out loud. God, he’d missed Erik’s sense of humour. ‘You make it sound like we’re having an illicit affair, Erik.’

Erik grins. ‘So, is it serious?’

Charles hums and huffs out a breath. ‘I don’t know, actually?’

‘Don’t know?’ Erik asks with raised brows. 

‘We are dating, yes. But we haven’t discussed anything beyond it for now.’ 

The surprise is evident on Erik’s face, because he’s well aware of Charles’ nature of deep diving into his relationships from the get go, but thankfully, Erik doesn’t comment on it. ‘Hey, I almost forgot to ask, how is cerebro?’

Charles beams. Erik remembered the name. ‘Oh, it’s fantastic, Erik. Do you know, my TA, Hank? A day doesn’t go by without him admiring it.’ And just like that Charles falls into the familiar lull of eating Erik's ear off with stories of how his students love it whenever he uses cerebro to explain something and how he has suddenly garnered the reputation of ‘_cool_’ in their eyes. Charles tells Erik about how he and Scott met and about Raven’s workshop before Az beckons Erik from somewhere in the background, and Erik leaves with a promise of meeting soon.

That night Charles all but pounces on Scott after they finish dinner at Charles' place. Later when they're lying in bed, limbs tangled and basking in the afterglow, Scott observes, 'You're happier than usual today. Did something interesting happen?'

Charles smiles from where he's lying half on top of Scott, his head tucked under Scott's chin and fingers drawing random patterns on the doctor's chest. 'Remember Erik?'

'The one you won't stop talking about? Yes, I remember him.'

Charles chuckles softly. 'I hadn't spoken to him in five months and none of my calls were connecting. I was worried sick that something had happened to him. But he's alright. I spoke to him in the evening, so it's a huge relief.'

'You worry a lot, Charles.'

'That I do,’ Charles agrees. But how can he not? It’s Erik.

*

** _[2029:07:010, Somewhere in deep space]_ **

'Angel, play something from my playlist,' Az commands the ship AI. Soon, some slow excuse for music fills the meagre space of the cabin. Erik doesn't recognize the tune even though he should have become an expert by now, being with the likes of Az and Charles, who for some unknown reason dote on romantic music-- if that is even a genre to begin with.

Beside him, Az throws him sidelong glances every minute, as though expecting Erik to snap at him and command Angel to play something from his playlist of rock music instead. Maybe Erik would have done just that any other day. But today, he doesn't mind.

'You're in a surprisingly good mood today,' Az says finally. 'Did something bite you on Pallene?'

'Is it that obvious?' Erik scoffs, amused. 'Nothing bit me. I just spoke to Charles.'

'Ah!' Az smiles, as if he has found his answer. 'How is he?'

'He's good. He's dating someone.'

'Is he now? Good for him.'

Erik hums in reply. 

Their trade in the Loge system went exceedingly well-- better than what either of them expected, anyway. Charles has found someone, and he looked happy when Erik spoke to him. If Charles is happy then Erik is, too.

A few tracks later, a familiar song begins to play. Erik smiles. 'This is Charles' favourite song,' he says. 

'He has good taste.' Az smiles.

A gentle melody and a baritone settles against the deathly silence of deep space. Outside, red, blue and green clouds of dust of a nebula drift by. 

_ Wise men say only fools rush in _

_ But I can't help falling in love with you _

_ Shall I stay? _

_ Would it be a sin _

_ If I can't help falling in love with you? _

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that date-not date-but Charles wants it to be a date-birthday celebration scene is also one of the key reasons I wrote this fic. That and angst
> 
> If it isn't clear, a sky-ski is a leaner-meaner-futuristic sort of a jet-ski that glides/floats on on ski-ways (something like the below one) due to electro-magnetic levitation (or a similarly high-tech space logic... WONK). If it's clear, cool...
> 
> Also, the song at the end is Elvis Presley's [Can't Help Falling In Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGJTaP6anOU)


	6. Setebos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, how do you like your angst?  
1\. Rare  
2\. Medium  
3\. or EXTREME

Charles’ heart sinks as he watches Bishop wrap his hands around another boy’s waist. The duo sway together to a rhythm of their own, headless of the music blasting from the speakers. 

Unable to watch it anymore, Charles gulps down the neon green drink in his hand and walks out. 

Despite the alcohol warming his insides, the sharp winter breeze hits him in the face when Charles steps outside. He hasn’t had a lot to drink, but the two drinks he had are potent enough to tilt his world a little. His head begins to swim as his knees threaten to buckle. That’s probably why he doesn’t remember calling Erik, or passing out on the deck in front of Bishop’s house. But when he wakes up again, it’s to Erik’s concerned gaze roaming over his form.

‘What are you doing here?’ Charles asks, confused. His head is still a little muffled, but it’s nowhere near as bad as what it was earlier.

‘You called me asking me to pick you.’ Erik frowns. ‘You didn’t even sound like yourself, Charles. What happened?’ 

‘Oh,’ Charles says, embarrassed and guilty all of a sudden. His mind sharpens as he takes stock of Erik and his surroundings. He remembers coming out of the house, but little to nothing after that. Erik’s short crop is ruffled and his clothes are rumpled, as though he pulled them on in a hurry. Erik must have been with Emma then. ‘I’m sorry for troubling you, my friend.’

‘It’s no problem.’ Erik shakes his head. ‘Are you alright.?’ And when Charles nods slowly, as if trying to find out the answer himself, Erik says, ‘Come on, let’s go.’ 

Charles takes the hand Erik holds out for him and gets up. They walk a few steps to where Erik’s sky-ski is parked. ‘Did you have dinner?’ Erik asks and Charles shakes his head. Since he’d gone straight to Bishop’s house from College, Charles hadn’t had lunch either. 

Sighing, Erik gets on the sky-ski. ‘Sit. We’ll get dinner first.’

Charles’ head clears further when he lends his face against the cold breeze. They zip through the ski-ways and stop by a small eatery on the suburbs for dinner. Charles and Erik sit on the ski-sky side by side and quietly eat their tacos. The eatery is situated on a hillock, rendering a brilliant view of the lit city below them, and without the buzzle of the city to obstruct, the breeze billows freely. 

It’s Erik who breaks the silence. ‘I have never seen you drunk, or attend a frat party.’

Charles chuckles ruefully. ‘And you probably won’t see me attend another one ever again. My dislike for them has been re-established. God, I’m the stupidest person on the planet.’

Erik frowns at him, as though defying Charles’ claim.

‘How could I not see that Bishop and that guy were together.’ Charles rubs his palms over his face. ‘I went to that party only because I wanted to impress Bishop. And now..’ he trails off. And now, he feels like a giant fool for harbouring a massive crush  for five long months  on someone who wasn’t even available. ‘I know,’ Charles says when Erik opens his mouth. ‘I know you think that I’m dense and naive for putting my heart out there just to get it crushed all over again. And for once, I agree with you.’ 

‘But I don’t agree with you,’ Erik says, looking resolutely into Charles’ eyes. ‘Only the strongest people can put their hearts on the line even while staring down at a heartbreak. Only the bravest can dare to be vulnerable. And that makes you the strongest and bravest man I know, Charles.’

When Charles shudders this time, it isn’t because of the chill in the breeze.

*

** _[2029:07:020, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Charles walks out of his bedroom on a quiet Saturday after an afternoon nap to find Erik sitting on a bar stool lining the kitchen counter. Charles squeaks loudly, mostly out of fear and shock of finding someone else sitting in his house than to find that it's Erik. 

Of course, Erik finds his reaction all too amusing and grins smugly. 

'You should stop scaring me like that, Erik,' Charles complains as he walks into the kitchen and leans over the counter to smack Erik on the shoulder.

'What?' Erik says innocently, rubbing the spot on his shoulder that Charles had hit with no force whatsoever. His show of pain is more for show than anything else. 'I didn't do anything!'

Instead of the deep rumble that Charles secretly admires, Erik’s voice is a dry rasp, as though every word he says is grated out of his vocal cords. ‘What happened to your voice?’ Charles asks, worried. ‘Are you not well?’ He leans over and touches Erik forehead with the back of his hand, and when he doesn’t find traces of a fever, he checks Erik’s cheek and neck just to be sure.

‘I'm fine,’ Erik says gently removing Charles’ wandering hand from his face. ‘There was a sandstorm in Setebos. It irritated my nose and throat a bit. That’s all. It’ll be alright in two days.’

Charles isn’t thoroughly convinced, but he withdraws his hand. If it’s just an allergic reaction to the Setian sandstorms Erik says it is, then it should abate soon. ‘How is Azazel?’

‘He’s a Setian. He’s unaffected by it.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘The dockstraps. There was some business he had to take care of.’

Charles hums. It’s been too long since he has spoken to Azazel if not in passing. He makes a mental note to call him and catch up. Raven’s birthday is coming up in two weeks. So he could invite Azazel and Erik over for dinner along with Raven and Scott. That way, they could all meet once before the party. So caught up in Erik’s presence and his musings is he, that Charles doesn’t catch Erik a pushing a black box on the kitchen counter his way. ‘What is this?’ he asks, eyeing the box skeptically.

Erik smirks. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘I trust you.’ Charles narrows his eyes at Erik. ‘I just don’t trust your sense of humour.’

‘It’s a belated birthday present, your highness,’ Erik says with a touch of dramatised sweetness, ‘Will you accept it now?’

‘Erik, you didn't have to!’ Charles says. Even after all these years, Erik doesn’t fail to surprise him. A neat row of tea packets stare back at him when Charles opens the box. He picks up one sachet, reads the label and gasps. ‘Is this-?’ He looks up at Erik, mouth agape. 

Erik laughs aloud. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘But…’ Charles stutters. ‘But… How did you manage to find it?’ Because Charles had searched and searched, and he hadn’t been able to. It’s the rarest tea brand in the world, and arguably the best. A man in Oxford used to import and market the tea on Earth-616. He moved his business to Kiviuq when the planet became hostile to its own species. They say that his tea business ran into trouble with the Kiviuqian authorities over a decade ago and has since been forced to smuggle the tea in and out of the planet through underground channels. No space shop dares to sell it in fear of losing trading permits. 

His Mother had loved that particular blend of earl grey and had packed a few boxes of it when they’d left for Hyperion. Charles had developed an unhealthy addiction to them, but unfortunately, his mother’s stash had been the last dregs of Earl grey tea that Charles had drunk.

‘I have my ways,’ Erik says smugly.

‘Thank you my friend. I love it!’ Charles says. His heart grows a little larger in his chest. Even he had forgotten that he’d told about the tea to Erik in passing a few years ago. The fact the Erik still remembers it is a gift in itself.

As pathetic as he is at accepting gratitude, Erik just shrugs. Erik’s stomach, however, chooses that very moment to grumble loudly. 

‘Erik, when did you last eat?’ Charles asks. Between travelling and work, Erik has a bad habit of forgetting to eat altogether. 

‘Sometime yesterday, I guess,’ Erik says sheepishly.

‘Yesterday? You idiot! You’re not feeling well and you haven’t eaten anything?’ Charles scolds. 

‘I’m alright-’ Erik tries to protest, but Charles isn’t willing to hear any of it. He moves around the kitchen, pulling vegetables and chicken out of the fridge. He fills water into a saucepan, adds the chicken, vegetables, turmeric, ginger, garlic, rock salt and some herbs and puts it in the oven.

‘So, how’s the good doctor doing?’ Erik asks with a sly smile once Charles puts the saucepan in the oven to cook. It’s a clear attempt at diverting the topic from himself, but Charles allows it; just this once. 

‘Good doctor? Really, Erik?’ Charles chuckles. ‘You already think that he’s a big snob, don’t you?’

Erik tries to deny it, but ends up chuckling himself. ‘Fine. But in my defense, when have I been wrong? All of your boyfriends were.’

‘They weren't,’ Charles tries to protest. ‘You just didn’t like them, that’s all.’

‘Oh, come on Charles. Don’t tell me Warren wasn’t a snob. And who was that guy from Iaptus? Bobby, wasn’t he? He and his rich-ass house. And don’t even get me started with Tony. How did he describe himself? Genius philanthropic billionaire. And you want to tell me that he wasn’t a snob?’

‘Alright, maybe just a little,’ Charles concedes ‘But Scott isn’t like that. He’s different.’

A small smile replaces the smirk on Erik’s place. ‘If that’s the case, then I’m glad. Genuinely.’

The AI announces that the soup is ready before he can respond. Charles pulls the saucepan from the oven and doles out its contents into a bowl and places it in front of Erik. ‘Here, this’ll make you feel better.’ While Erik begins to eat, Charles fills a glass with water and places it next to the soup.

Erik looks haggard and wind blown in more ways than one. He’s lost some weight, too. Erik is the worst at taking care of himself. He forgets to eat and fills up his stomach with bitter coffee. His sleep cycle is a havoc, thanks to the different startime zones he travels between. The thought of Erik working hard somewhere in space without a care for his health pinches Charles’ chest. 

‘You need someone to take care of you,’ Charles says leaning his elbow on the counter and resting his chin in the cup of his palm.

Erik looks up from his bowl. A few drops of the soup he’d been trying to sip out of the spoon escape and get caught in his beard. 

‘All I need is coffee,’ Erik says, lips stretched into a wide smile feigning innocence.

‘Nice try. But I’m not making you coffee when your throat is already irritated.’ Charles wipes the soup from Erik’s chin with his hand.

Erik sighs. ‘Dating is not my thing, Charles. Plus, it’s difficult to find people. It’s cumbersome.’

‘How difficult is it, Erik? You travel so much. Surely the avenues to meet potential dates are far more than on Orion.’

‘That’s the thing,’ Erik says after swallowing a mouthful of soup. ‘Dating etiquettes and legal ages are different on different planets, Charles. There’s this planet called Bestla in the Enceladus system where the legal dating age is 30, and in the same system, there’s another planet where you can start dating from 15 years. On Oberon, polyamory is socially acceptable, so you can sleep with a married person and get away with it. But the Anthians on Anthe are a strictly monogamous race, and there are no visible signs or ways to tell if someone is married or not. If you approach the wrong person on the wrong planet, you could end up in jail. It’s very risky, Charles.’ Erik puts the spoon in his hands into the bowl and continues, ‘The only time I was in anything remotely resembling a relationship was in Aegir with a woman named Magda. But even that ended in two weeks because I couldn’t stay there.’

Charles knows that Erik sleeps with people of all races when he travels. Even on Orion, he has a few fuck buddies. All that knowledge hasn’t troubled him the way that the sour feeling that creeps up his chest upon learning about a potential relationship Erik could have had does. Unaware of how to trample the jealousy that takes over his heart, Charles tries to change the subject. ‘Do you know about laws on every planet in every system?’

‘It’s my job to know.’ Erik smirk.

‘With all the knowledge you have, you would have made an excellent Interstellar lawyer,’ Charles says.

The smirk on Erik’s face vanishes almost instantly. Erik’s eyes roam over Charles’ face for a long minute as if searching for something while Charles stays rooted to his spot. The bar stool wobbles behind Erik as he gets up jerkily as if he’d found whatever he’d been looking for. ‘I’m sorry, Charles, but I have to get going.’

Galvanised by the words, Charles almost trips on his own feet walking around the counter to Erik. ‘What? You haven’t even finished your soup.’

‘It’s fine. I’ll eat something later.’

Did he say something wrong? Did he offend Erik in any way? Charles racks his brain for anything that he could have said to hurt Erik and comes up empty-handed. ‘I’m sorry if I said something that I shouldn’t have but, Erik, please don’t leave. Are you angry with me? You haven’t eaten anything today. Let me make you tea. Or I’ll make you-’ Erik places a finger on his lips to stop his rambling and steps closer.

‘I’m not mad at you, Charles,’ Erik says with a forlorn smile. Others might not be able to spot it, but Charles knows Erik all too well for that.

‘Then why are you leaving so abruptly?’ Charles demands even as his voice wobbles a little.

Removing the finger from his lips, Erik gingerly cups Charles’ face in his hands. ‘Because I have work to do. And I’ll eat something on the way. Don’t worry about me.’

This close, Charles has to cranes his neck up to look into Erik’s eyes. ‘Are you going out of Orion on another job?’

‘No. I’ll be here for a few more days.’

‘Promise me you’ll eat something healthy.’

‘I promise,’ Erik whispers-- so close now, that Charles feels Erik’s breath on his face-- and leans down to press a soft kiss to Charles’ forehead.

Breathing heavily and rooted to the spot, Charles quietly watches Erik walk out of the house. The ghost of Erik’s lips against his skin feels like a brand of fire.

*

The kiss leaves Charles rattled for the rest of the day, like a planet tossed out its orbit and let to stray around the star, grappling for its center of gravity. And in the absence of gravity, all the feelings he’d buried down for so many years come bubbling up his chest, like asteroids hurtling into a planet, threatening to destroy him whole.

He doesn’t realise when night falls or when Scott comes to his place with dinner. Everything tastes the same; even Scott’s kisses. Later that night, when Scott fucks into him erratically, all he can feel is Erik’s tender kiss on his forehead. Charles presses his face into the pillow and when he comes, it’s to the thought of Erik.

Charles had always known that his love for Erik wouldn’t fade, but he believed that someone will come along the way whom he’ll be able to love eventually. But what if he can’t love Scott like he loves Erik? What he if he can’t let go of Erik at all?

*

His answer comes three days later.

Scott comes to his place after work with a bottle of champagne in his hands. 

‘What are we celebrating?’ Charles smiles as Scott pours out the fizzy drink into two flutes. 

‘We,’ Scott says, handing one flute to Charles. ‘Are celebrating my promotion as the head of the Cardiac Wing.’

‘That’s great news, Scott.’ Charles closes the small gap between them to peck Scott on the lips.

‘Yes, it is. But the only catch is that the hospital I’ll be working on is on Narvi.’

‘What?’ Charles asks, confused. ‘But that’s in a different system-’

‘Yes,’ Scott beams and grabs him by the shoulders. ‘Isn’t that exciting? Narvi has some of the best educational Institutions in the Galaxy, Charles. I’ve already made a few calls and you’ll be set up in no time in a university, darling.’

‘But, Scott-’

Scott moves in closer. ‘What’s the matter, Charles? I understand if you don’t want to leave Raven alone here. But it’ll only be a matter of months before I can pull her under my wing.’

And what about Erik? What will Erik do when Charles is gone? Where will he go and whose sofa will he sleep on? Who’ll take care of him?

The smile fades from Scott’s face, and he takes a step back. ‘Answer me honestly, Charles. Do you want a future with me?’

Charles’ voice gets stuck in his throat and mist fills his eyes. Even after several attempts, all that comes out is, ‘Scott, I… I’m sorry.’

He curls in on himself on the sofa for hours after Scott leaves. Outside the window, Fenrir shines brightly, as if teasing and taunting him. The tear tracks on his cheeks flow afresh when Cerebro reads out a text from Scott that he’s ending things between them.

He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to stew and drown in his thoughts. All Charles wants to do is place his head on Erik’s shoulder and cry his heart out.

‘Crebro,’ Charles calls out to the AI, ‘Send a message to Erik’

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn't clear, Setians are the inherirent race of Setebos, i.e., Azazel  
The half-way mark has passed, but tighten your seat belts, because... ANGST!!! ARGHHH!!!  
Also, guys, we're so close to 2030:08:007!!!


	7. Orion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and Intense chapter, just like Charles in XMDOFP  
Also, warning for minor character death and dealing with it

Erik’s lynk-pad chimes in his pocket. There’s a message from Charles when Erik pulls out the transparent piece of tech, and it reads. _ Erik _

A few seconds later, a second message comes in. _ Where are you? _

_ I’m on a job. Why? _Erik responds. The said job isn’t faring well for either Erik or Janos. They knew that the profit margin was lean going in, but now, it’s taking a dive towards loss.

_ Can I talk to you? _

_ I’m busy right now. I can’t. _

_ Okay. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll call you. _

_ I won’t be free for another two days. _Erik doesn’t mean to snap, but he hasn’t eaten a meal since morning and hasn’t slept well in two days. Before Charles can reply, Janos beckons Erik towards the hull of the ship. He puts the lynk-pad back into his pocket and runs to Janos.

They return to Orion two days later in a foul mood. At the end, the loss had been inevitable and the job and the deal had turned sour.

Erik doesn’t see Charles at the scrapyard the next day, or even the day after that. Maybe Charles is upset with him for snapping at him or doesn’t know that Erik is back. He wouldn’t have a way of knowing when Erik hadn’t even replied to Charles’ message. Guilt ridden, Erik goes to Charles’ house on the third day.

The grey clouds that had been covering the skies since morning begin to pour in earnest by the time he parks his sky-ski in the Manor’s driveway. Erik upends the hood of his jacket over his head against the downpour and sprints the short distance to the main entrance. 

A bot lets him in.

‘Where is Charles?’ Erik asks.

_ Master Xavier is sitting in the backyard by his mother’s grave _, the bot replies.

Mother’s grave? The gears in Erik’s limbs begin to whir in overdrive, and before he even realises it, he’s running to the backyard.

Across the lawn and on a raised mound, Charles is sitting in front of a tombstone. A tombstone that wasn’t there previously. With his back to Erik, he cannot see Charles’ face, but he’s drenched to his bones.

Fuck.

That’s why Charles had messaged him a week ago. That’s why he wanted to speak with Erik. That’s why he wanted Erik by his side. Because his mother had died.

Fuck.

Erik moves walks to where Charles is sitting and slowly sits beside him. Charles doesn’t acknowledge his presence or look up from where his sight is boring down the writings on the tombstone. 

_ In memory of a loving wife and mother _

_ Sharon Emily Xavier _

Charles’ cheeks are a ghostly white and his hair is matted down to his skull. He’s probably freezing, too, the thin white shirt he’s wearing unresistant towards the seeping water.

Erik’s limbs feels sluggish as he removes his jacket and places it gingerly on Charles’ shoulders. Sans the jacket, the cold water stings when it seeps through Erik’s t-shirt.

After what feels like an eternity, Charles speaks, eyes still trained on the tombstone. ‘You know, everyone told me that I had her eyes. They told me that my eyes were the same shade of blue as hers.’ His voice is hoarse and raw, and Erik can’t tell if it’s form disuse or from crying. ‘But I don’t think she knew. I don’t think she knew the colour of my-’ His voice cuts off on a ragged choke before he can finish that sentence.

Erik’s heart constricts in his chest. There are so many things that he wants to say; apologies crowding at the tip of his tongue. _ I’m sorry you’re mother didn’t love you. It wasn’t your fault and it never will be. I’m sorry that I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I’m sorry I left you to deal with this alone. I’m sorry for being a shitty friend _. But at the end, what comes out is a feeble sorry.

‘I’m truly alone now, aren’t I?’ Charles says, voice barely above a whisper, and Erik doesn't know if Charles is talking to him or his mother.

‘No!’ Erik says firmly, regardless. ‘No, Charles, you’re never alone. Not as long as I’m alive.’

Charles finally turns towards him, and Erik’s heart shrinks further in his chest looking at Charles’ swollen and red-rimmed eyes. Without warning, Charles leans forward and hugs him, his arms tightening around Erik’s back, and hides his face under Erik’s chin.

There’s a warmth on Erik’s neck, but Erik doesn’t know whether it’s from Charles’ breath or his tears. Erik holds Charles tightly against his chest, regardless, and vows silently that he’d never let Charles feels lonely ever again.

*

** _[2029:07:024, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

‘It’s over,’ Charles tells Erik as the latter walks in through the door. ‘With Scott, it’s-’ his voice wobbles and cracks even before Charles completes his sentence. With only Fenrir’s murky white light filling the hall, Erik is a solid silhouette as he slowly walks towards the sofa and sits next to Charles. His eyes roam over Charles’ face, no doubt taking stock of his swollen and red-rimmed eyes with concern. After what feels like an eternity, he finally says, ‘I’m sorry, Charles.’

Charles shakes his head vehemently. He doesn’t need concern or pity from Erik. He just wants Erik. Charles just wants his best friend. So without thinking, he slams into Erik’s form, tightening his arms around Erik’s back and hiding his face under Erik chin.

The tears from his eyes renew afresh when Erik hugs him back after a moment and whispers into his hair: ‘You’ll find someone, Charles. You’ll find someone who will love you and cherish you. Someone who’ll move the planets for you.’

Charles just nods mutely. When he breathes out the next time, the air stutters out of his lungs. He doesn’t know why he’s crying-- whether it’s because Scott wasn’t that someone or because Erik never will be.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life does come a full circle sometimes, doesn't it?


	8. Earth-616 (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for description of hunger and... lemme think...cockroaches

** _[2010:01:016, Earth-616, Helios System]_ **

It’s the hunger that drives Erik to the dump yards. Some lunatic had promised him a few bucks 

for clearing an area of rubble. But with every minute Erik spends in the hazardous space-- shovel in hand, sans mask and gloves-- his hopes of getting out of here alive shrinks. Still, a hungry stomach can make you do a great many things. 

Erik pitches his shovel under a pile of organic dump. An army of rats and rodents escape from under it and swamps Erik’s feet. Fortunately, he’s wearing heavy-duty boots. Unfortunately, they’re two sizes too big for him. He feels a few roaches crawl into his boots through the gap and thinks he could barf. Then again, the only thing that he’ll be throwing up are his digestive juices.

The second pitch of his shovel is interrupted by the light of a spaceship that parks jerkily a few feet away. The bellow of its engines causes a plume of dust and plastic to dance in the air.

Erik knows those ships, several of those land and take off from the dump yards day in and day out. They’re Scrappers, or space ships designated specifically for transporting space trash. Once the screech of the engine quietens, a man peeks out from the window in the hull and shouts at him, ‘Hey, kid. Are you a scrapper?’

Erik doesn’t know if he’s one or not, so he mutely nods his head. 

‘How old are you?’

‘Twelve.’

The man curses to himself. ‘Listen, I’m short one man today, but I need to get going. If you help me with loading a heap of silicone into the hull, I’ll drop you off at whichever planet you want.’

‘Where’s your ship going?’ 

‘Orion,’ the man shouts.

Erik doesn’t know what would have happened to him if not for that man who had dropped him off at Janos’ scrapyard, or for Janos himself, who had taken Erik in as his own and given him food and shelter. But Erik does know that he wouldn’t have met Charles, otherwise. He wouldn’t have met the small boy with bright blue eyes who’d held out an unresponsive e-libpad at Erik’s face and asked him with a nervous smile if he could fix it.

Charles is as entitled as they came- he’s from a prestigious family, he’s an heir to a fortune that he can’t create a dent in even if lives off of it his entire life, he’s brilliant, intelligent and uniquely handsome. To an outsider, Charles has everything. But only Erik knows that there’s only one thing Charles has ever wanted in his life- to be loved and accepted. Just like only Erik knows that Charles’ desire to be in a relationship stems from his hatred of loneliness, the loneliness that haunted him as a child. Like only Erik knows that Charles never asks for help. Not because he's too proud to do so; no. But because he's too polite. 

And courtesy of his mother, somewhere deep down, Charles believes that he’s not worthy of anyone’s time. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you,’ Charles says even when he reluctantly asks something from Erik, ‘I’m sure you’d be busy.’ 

But that's the thing. Erik is never too busy for Charles. And no matter in which corner of the universe Erik’s in, Charles needn't ask for him to come running. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How else do you describe Charles, if not through Erik


	9. Surtur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Raven's and Azazel's POV folks!  
Shit goes down....

‘To  Homo neanderthalensis , it’s cousin Homo sapiens is just an anomaly. Peaceful co-habilitation of the two species-’

‘Do you know of binary star systems?’ Raven interrupts Charles from where she’s sleeping against his shoulder.

‘I do know them,’ Charles answers, ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Nothing.’ Raven shrugs casually. ‘They just remind me of you and Erik.’

Charles chuckles. ‘You’re ridiculous, Raven.’ He kisses the top of her head. ‘Try to get some sleep, will you? You have an exam tomorrow.’

‘Yeah. Continue reading your thesis. It’ll be out like a light in minutes.’

Raven should be thinking about anatomy-- that’s what her paper the next day is on-- but oddly, she can’t help thinking about the cosmos. Especially, binary star systems- two stars orbiting each other perpetually and held in place together by their combined gravity; so much so that to an observer, they appear to be a single entity, wrapped in a bubble of space and time of their own that they’re unaffected by the vast universe around them. 

*

** _[2029:07:030, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

The party is in full swing by the time Azazel enters. Though he knew that Raven stayed in the staff quarters in the far end of the city, he'd never seen it personally. It's pretty impressive, he has to admit. Then again, it's a space meant to be housing some of the city's best doctors, of course it had to be good. Raven's birthday party is being held in the communal space on the terrace of the building-- no, a skyscraper to be precise, a whopping 140 stories tall. 

The electronic music that’s billowing from the far corner rises into the crisp evening air and the neon lights lining the open bar and lighting up the dance floor stands starkly against the dark sky. It’s a posh party with probably all of Raven’s elite friends in attendance. Az wouldn’t have gotten an opportunity to attend such an event if not for Charles’ invite that comes every year. 

Az looks around for Erik-- who had stayed at Charles’ the previous night-- and finds him sitting alone at the tail end of the long bar counter sipping on an amber liquid broodily. He might as well be hatching a murder scheme in his head, plotting to kill half of the occupants of the space, going by the scowl on his face. Az follows the line of Erik’s gaze to Charles and Raven, standing on one side of the dance floor and surrounded by a handful of Raven’s friends. So used to seeing him in a frumpy cardigan and khakis, it’s a little odd to see Charles in a suit, and for a man who broke up just a week ago, Charles looks fairly put together. Then again, Charles has always been good at hiding his feelings behind his charming smile. As for Raven, it might sound like a biased opinion, but she looks gorgeous in a white cocktail frock.

Az picks up a drink from a bot carrying it and waits for the ongoing conversation to end. Once it does, he approaches the duo. ‘Miss Raven,’ he says sweetly, ‘Many happy returns of the day!’ Holding out the bottle he’d been carrying with him in the cradle of his arms, he adds: ‘The finest rum from Mimas. Aged a hundred years. A personal favourite of mine. I hope you enjoy it.’

Instead of rolling her eyes like Az had expected her to, Raven looks at the bottle approvingly, yellow eyes glittering under the neon blue. ‘Good taste.’

‘I believe I do have a good taste,’ he says gesturing to her, just to rile her up a little if not anything else, because it feels odd to have a conversation with Raven that’s completely civil. At that, she rolls her eyes, and Charles, who had been watching their exchange amusingly, snickers. ‘Raven!’ A group of girls call her from behind Az and Raven waves back at their direction excitedly. Excusing herself, Raven runs towards the group and beckons Charles, too. 

Charles sighs fondly at his sister and turns to smile at Az earnestly-- the kind of smile that makes him realise why Erik could never say no to Charles. ‘I’m glad you could make it, Azazel. I honestly thought you wouldn’t come.’ Raven calls to Charles again before he can respond. Gesturing towards Erik, Charles says, ‘Could you please keep an eye on him for me, Azazel? Heads up, he’s grumpier than usual.’ With that, he dashes off towards Raven and her group of friends.

And here Az had thought that he could enjoy a nice party without having to babysit Erik. Resigning, Azazel makes his way towards the open bar and leans on the counter beside Erik. ‘Nice party.’

Erik drowns the drink he’d been nursing in his hand in one shot. ‘I need to talk to you, let’s get some air.’ Sighing, Az follows Erik as he gets up from the stool and walks through a small room behind the bar that leads to a balcony. The music from the party reduces to a dull thud here. 

Erik rubs his face and runs his hands through his hair a few times as he paces the length of the space. He’s motions are uncharastically jittery. Charles wasn’t exaggerating the  _ grumpier than usual _ , then.

‘What did you want to talk about?’ Az asks when Erik continues to pace without saying a word. 

‘I need to set Charles up with somebody, and I don’t care how it’s done. ’ Erik says finally, without looking up at him.

‘What?’ Az asks, confused. 

‘I need to set Charles set up with somebody from that party,’ Erik repeats, as if Az hadn’t heard him the first time. 

‘I heard what you said, Erik. But why? Did he tell you-’

‘Because the ten years expires next week. And if he’s not in a relationship by then- ‘ Erik shakes his head, like he doesn’t dare speak out the implications of the prospect. Of course. It had completely escaped Az’s mind. That’s why Erik’s acting like a complete dick. God, he feels like punching Erik in the face.

‘Erik, your deal with Charles was ten years ago,’ Az tries to reason. ‘You are both adults now. I’m sure Charles won’t hold it on your head or against you.’

‘You were the one who thought that a marriage between Charles and me was a good idea, didn’t you?’ Erik snaps sharply.

‘Yes, and I still do. I think that you should marry him, but not because of some… deal, but because the two of you would fit perfectly. I want you to consider a relationship with him  _ and then _ marry him if that’s what you both want. Not marry him in obligation to a deal.’

‘It might be a deal to you Az,’ Erik almost yells. The anger and frustration resonates through his entire frame and every jerky movement. ‘But it isn’t to me. I made a promise to him and I intend to keep it.’

‘If you’re so hell-bent on keeping your promise then marry him, you idiot!’ Az yells back. ‘What’s the bloody problem?’

‘The problem is that I don’t want to marry him,’ Erik yells. 

Before Az can open his mouth, though, a small voice from behind him says, ‘Then you should have just told me that, Erik.’

Az swivels on his heel to find Charles standing in the doorway of the balcony, face red, eyes glossy and breath coming out in short puffs. 

Fuck.

*

** _[2029:08:030, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

‘Is this where you stay?’ Raven asks. Her eyes roam around the tiny room-- the greyed paint peeling off the walls and the helium light fixtures on the verge of giving out-- in a mix of contempt and horror.

‘Not always. Only when we’re on Orion. And even then, Erik mostly sleeps at Charles’ place and I sleep in the spaceship or hire a dockcell. The warehouse is for maintenance and storage mostly. But we have a couple of beds just in case,’ Az replies. He pulls a levitating chair that he’d recently repaired for Raven and wipes off the fine layer of dust that has collected on it since. He smiles at her and bows, gesturing towards the chair. ‘Please, take a seat.’

Rolling her eyes, Raven sits on the offered chair and crosses her leg.

‘I would have offered you a drink,’ Az says sheepishly, ‘But it was a bit of a short notice to prepare for a guest.’ He’d been genuinely surprised when Raven had called him a few hours ago and asked him if they could meet. Another time, he would have been over the prospect of meeting her, but he’s almost sure of what she wants to discuss with him.

Raven waves him off. ‘There’s no need to stand on formality. Listen, Az, there’s something I need to discuss with you.’

Az sighs heavily. He pulls out a chair for himself and sits on it. ‘Is this about those two idiots?’

Raven snorts in surprise. ‘How did you know?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? How is Charles?’

‘He’s cooped up in his house. He isn’t going to the university.’ Raven harrumphs. ‘For all I know he isn’t eating or drinking properly. Where is Erik?’

‘I don’t know,’ Az replies, throwing his hands up in the air. When Raven raises her brows in question, he adds: ‘He’s stormed in and out of here a couple of times, but I don’t know where he goes. He growls whenever I talk to him. He’s probably completely given up on eating and sleeping as well. And when I woke up this morning, I found this in my Inbox.’ Az commands Angel to bring up the Port Registration form from his inbox and a moment later, a white hologram pops up from his beamer. He pushes it towards Raven.

‘What is it?’ she asks, flipping a few pages.

‘It’s a port permit paper. If a trader wants to set up business on any planet, they have to first register with the association. Only then can they claim that planet to be a base of operations. Those are the registration papers for setting up business on Surtur.’ Raven is looking at him like plasma is flowing out of his ears and eyes. ‘Long story short. Erik is planning to move our base of operations to Surtur, so if that gets approved, we should be leaving for Surtur by dawn tomorrow.’

‘What?’ Raven gets up from the chair. ‘You guys are moving? How can you do that? Don’t you get a say in all of this?’

‘From a business standpoint, it’s a good decision. Trade on Orion has been dwindling of late. So it makes sense to move our base of operations to Surtur. The planet has a greater influx of buyers. But if you ask my personal opinion, I don’t like it one bit. But what can I do Raven, he isn’t ready to listen to me’ Az had tried talking to Erik after the party, but every attempt had ended up in a shouting match, or with Erik storming out. He’d tried reaching out to Charles a few times, but there wasn't an answer from him as well. Ultimately, he’d decided to give it time. Maybe they’ll come to their senses eventually on their own. Because there was no universe in this galaxy designed to keep Charles and Erik apart. Until, he’d woken up that morning and seen Erik’s mail in his inbox. ‘Have you tried speaking to Charles?’

Raven looks at him like he’s a dimwit. ‘Duh! Why would I be here that was successful?’ And more to herself than to Az, she says, ‘Moreover, I promised him that I won’t speak about that matter.’ Though Raven doesn’t elaborate on what that ‘matter’ is, and Az doesn’t press. ‘Did Erik mean what he said about not wanting to marry Charles?’ she asks finally.

‘I don’t know how much Charles heard or how much he told you, but it wasn’t how it sounded, Raven.’

‘Az,’ Raven drawls out, ‘How long have you known Erik?’

‘Around 14 years, I guess. Why do you ask?’

‘So you know him pretty well.’ 

Az doesn’t understand if it was meant to be a statement or a question. ‘Yes, I know him fairly well.’

Raven hums. ‘Then do you think that Erik really meant what he said?’

‘Do I think he’s in love with Charles? Raven, I know for a fact that he is. But the problem is that Erik hasn’t realised it yet.’ Sometimes, Az envied the kind of relationship that Erik had with Charles. The kind of bond that went beyond the ways of the world, the kind of relationship that went beyond society’s definitions of love and friendship. What they share is just... pure intimacy. They are two ends of the same soul. Without one, the other wouldn't exist. ‘And what about Charles? I take it that he’s in love with Erik, too?’

Though she nods tiredly, there’s a sharpness and purpose in her gaze when she locks eyes with him. A mute understanding passes between the two of them.

‘You think we can fix the situation?’ Az asks.

‘We should at least try.’ Raven shrugs. 

‘We have tried. You’ve tried speaking to Charles. I’ve tried speaking to Erik. All of our attempts have been futile,’ Az point out.

‘True,’ Raven agrees easily and points a finger at him. A smirk overtakes her face as she says, ‘But you haven’t spoken to Charles.’

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER TILL THE END ARGHHHH!!!!!!!


	10. Ymir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS FIC IS COMING TO AN END!!!  
Even through this is the last chapter, I'll put out an epilogue in the future because the our deserve the FLUFF (and also the smut ;))!! XD  
Untill then, I hope you enjoy this! :D

It’s not that Charles and Erik have never fought in all the years they’ve known each other. It's just that neither of them like it very much when they do.

The longest they’ve gone without talking to each other is for three days. It all starts when Charles gifts Erik a Maroon shirt woven out of fine Calibanean cotton from his favourite boutique. Of everything Charles had expected Erik to be, furious isn’t one of them. ‘Didn’t I tell you not to treat me like a charity case?’ Erik growls, glaring at Charles with an intensity he hadn’t seen on Erik ever since they were boys of twelve and thirteen. 

‘It’s just a gift, Erik. I saw that shirt and thought that it would look good on you. How is that treating you like a charity case?’

‘Can’t you see? It’s expensive as hell, Charles. Surely, I couldn't buy it with the kind of money I make,’ Erik says acerbically.

‘So are all the things you gift me, Erik,’ Charles snaps, ‘How much does that telescope you gifted me for my birthday cost? It’s not cheap for sure. Do I accuse you of treating me like a charity case, then?’

‘It’s different,’ Erik grits through his teeth.

‘It isn’t,’ Charles almost yells. ‘If you can give me fancy gifts, then so can I. I didn’t give it to you with an intention of treating you like a charity case, Erik. I gave it to you because you’re my friend. And friendship, you idiot, is a two-way street. If you can’t see that, then I don’t see why we should remain friends at all.’ Charles throws the shirt he’d been holding and storms out. 

The next three days are the worst three days of Charles’ life. He doesn't eat, and sleeps in fits. All he can think about is Erik. What if their friendship of nearly a decade reduces to shambles just because of a stupid shirt? But Charles holds his ground, hoping furiously that Erik will realise it sooner or later. For three, cruel days, hope, is his only companion.

On the fourth day, Erik shows up at his doorstep, clad in the same maroon shirt Charles had gifted him. The unkempt hair and the bags under his eyes are the only indication that Erik, too, suffered the same fate as him. ‘How do I look?’ Erik asks hoarsely. 

Erik’s apologies come in the form of actions rather than words, and  _ this  _ is Erik’s way of saying that he’s sorry. Charles knows it well enough, so he beams and says, ‘Handsome.’

*

** _[2029:08:006, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Outside the floor-to-ceiling, plexiglass windows that line one side of Charles’ living room, Fenrir rises against the elephant grey skies, shy at first and then bold, peeking through the murky white clouds. The constellations of stars blink and wink around it in greeting.

His house is otherwise dark, save for the eerie, milky white light Fenrir is beginning to spill through the glass. The last meal Charles had was sometime yesterday. He should probably eat something, but he doesn’t have the stomach or the heart to digest anything now. Instead, he curls in on himself on the sofa and pulls up the blanket a little snug around his shoulders. If he really concentrates, the blanket still smells like Erik. It’s been almost a week and still… Charles shakes his head. He just needs a little more time. 

The quiet surrounding the house is disrupted by cerebro, which comes to life on the coffee table and announces:  _ Professor, you have an incoming message from Erik. Do you want me to read it out? _

No, he doesn’t want to hear it. What will even come out of it? Charles swallows the lump in his throat and holds back the stream of tears waiting at the corner of his eyes to flow down his cheeks. ‘Don’t notify me of messages or calls from Erik Lehnsherr,’ Charles says. His voice hitches and wavers, but he doesn’t care. There’s no one to witness it. 

_ Shading Erik Lehnsherr until you revoke, _ the AI says smoothly.

For the first time in nearly twenty years, Charles feels what he felt when he left Earth-616: lonely.

Granted that Charles is naive and dense, but he’s not a fool. He’d realised long ago that he’d have to settle for a life where Erik wouldn’t be his, no matter how much he loved him. Someday, he’d have to move on and find a partner to lead life with. Maybe, Erik would find someone, too. Maybe, he too, would settle down with someone who’d make him happy. Charles had made peace with the fact that having Erik in his life in any capacity was better than not having him at all. 

Everyone in Charles’ life had a complaint to offer about him. His colleagues complained that he works a lot. His boyfriends complained that he’s too clingy. Even Raven occasionally complained. But Erik never did. Erik never complained when he ranted for hours on Genetics. He didn’t complain about Charles’ old-fashioned clothes. He didn’t complain when Charles clung on to him and followed him everywhere. Erik understood and accepted Charles in a way that nobody could and would. And Charles, too, prided on the fact that he knew Erik more than anyone else, sometimes even himself. In all ways, Erik was his true equal. That is more profound and noble than any form of love, isn’t it? To be accepted, understood and to belong was what every soul on the galaxy craved for. Charles had found that relationship with Erik that races in the galaxy ran behind. 

Growing up, Charles didn’t have any friends on Earth 616, or on Orion. Though his mother was technically present in his life, her presence was either drowned in the bottles of alcohol she consumed, or in the endless parties she sought refuge in. But Charles always had Erik in his life, and that was, somehow, always enough.

But now, Charles begins to doubt whether any of it was real at all. If it was, Erik wouldn’t have reduced their relationship of nineteen years to that of a mere consolation. He wouldn’t have thought so low of Charles to bind him to a marriage out of a juvenile deal; because of his idea of a promise. Did Erik think that Charles' feelings were so inconsequential that he hadn't felt the need to discuss it with Charles? The fact that Erik felt obliged to do it and decided it all by himself is what angers Charles the most. Charles doesn’t need Erik’s pity, he doesn’t need his empathy or support or his misguided sense of duty.

Charles might have made peace with the fact that Erik didn’t and couldn’t love him in the way he did, but it still hurt to hear those words from Erik’s mouth. Even now, he can hear Erik’s voice rumbling in his ears when he closes his eyes.  _ The problem is that I don’t want to marry him. _ The words ring in his head like a pulsar. 

Charles shouldn’t have gone looking for Erik at Raven’s party in the first place. He’d be spared of his misery if he hadn’t. 

His inner voice that Charles had fought to keep at bay writhes in self loathing. Like hot plasma flaring from a star, it breaks from its confines and flares in his head. Was he so unlovable that his own mother would reject him? Was he so worthless that the man who’d known and grown up with him-- his best friend-- didn't love him. 

Even when his mother had passed away, Charles hadn’t felt the way he feels now. Now, he feels like a planet knocked out of its orbit, hurtling blindly through space and straight into a black hole, ready to be ripped through to the core, until its wiped out of its existence. 

Charles feels like he’s swimming in a Quasar, headless of space and time.

Erik had tried to talk to him in the past week, but Charles had let all his calls go to his inbox. He doesn't think that he'd be able to see Erik and not be reminded of the anger on Erik's face when he'd said that he didn't want to marry Charles, he doesn't think that he could hear Erik's voice and not be reminded of the utter disgust in Erik's tone as he’d said it. Charles doesn't think that he could see or listen to Erik without his heart crumbling inside him. 

Though only two weeks ago, his breakup with Scott feels like it happened in some other age, like a comet flung so far away from its star, that all that’s reminiscent of it is faint dust. 

Charles is just tired. Tired of having his heart stomped on every time he puts it bare, hoping that it would be embraced in turn.

More than once he’s tempted to pick up a bottle and drown himself in it. It would have been so easy. But the memories of his mother’s glassy eyes, slurs and limp limbs keep him away from it.

So wrapped up in his thoughts his he that he doesn’t realise a silhouette appearing in the hall. For a split-second, he thinks that it’s Erik, heart ready to pop out of his heart, but the flick of a tail gives away its owner.

Sensing his panic, Azazel says penitently, ‘Sorry, I let myself in.’

Charles sighs and orders Cerebro to turn on the lights, and squints when the lights hit him square in the eyes. Azazel walks in and leans against the kitchen counter. There’s a tightness to his pose that Charles hasn’t seen in the fluid grace with which he moves. A sombre mask veils his dark eyes. Charles doesn’t mean to be rude, but he doesn’t have the energy for pleasantries, and it doesn’t take a genius to realise why Azazel is here, so he cuts straight to the chase. ‘Did you come here to speak on behalf of Erik or Raven, Azazel?’

‘Yes and no,’ Az says after a moment of contemplation. ‘I don’t know how much of our conversation you heard, Charles. But don’t worry, I’m not here to argue that what Erik did or said is right. He is a proper dick. But on the other hand, I’ve known him for over a decade now, and it’s my duty as a friend to set the record straight. And I don’t think I can live with myself if I keep quiet now.’

He pauses for a moment as if expecting a rebuttal from Charles, and when it doesn’t come, he leans fully against the kitchen counter and slips his hands into his pockets. ‘You know, Erik and I have been working for sixteen years now, and still, he forgets my birthday every year. But he doesn’t forget yours. Not one single year. In fact, he starts squirming a month prior, trying to find the perfect gift for you.’ Azazel chuckles ruefully. ‘Remember that book he gave you a few years ago? He stood in a queue for an entire day and broke into a fight with three people to buy it. It cost him a month’s earnings. And that’s a man who hasn’t read a book in his life. Every year, I’ve seen that man fly in from any part of the galaxy he’s in just to spend the day with you. And when he couldn’t make it this year for your birthday, he scrambled like a mad man on the docks of Thrymyr just to get a signal on a network to talk to you. Remember Valentine's Day? We were on a job. He abandoned it to get to you, so that he could keep you company. He has abandoned jobs and given up his share of profits for you so many times now that I’ve lost count, Charles. Erik says that the trouble is worth it. That  _ you  _ are worth it. He remembers things about you that he doesn’t recall about himself-- your favourite dish, favourite book; even your favourite brew of tea. Not a day goes by without him thinking or talking about you. But unfortunately, I’m the only one who knows about it.’

Azazel huffs out a breath. ‘Erik isn’t in a relationship not because he doesn’t want to be in one. He isn’t in a relationship because he doesn’t need to be in one. He already has you. Sadly, the idiot hasn’t realised that himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, Charles. It’s just that he thinks that he doesn’t deserve you. It’s funny, you know, Erik always told me that you deserve a guy who’d move planets for you. The idiot didn’t realise that he was that guy. That he moved time and space to get to you. Each and every time you needed him.’ The Setian sighs, moves off the counter and walks towards Charles. ‘Erik prohibited me from telling you any of this because he said that it’d make you guilty. I’m not saying any of this to guilt trip you into talking to him, Charles. I’m only saying this because he deserves one last chance to be heard.’

Azazel’s last words snap Charles into action. His voice, which is somewhere buried under the lump in his throat, refuses to come out. When it does, Charles has to speak a little louder to hear himself over the wild thumping of his heart. Even when he speaks, it’s with a great struggle. ‘Wh.. What- What do you mean last chance?’

‘We’re shifting base to Surtur and it’s likely permanent. We leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow.’ Before leaving Azazel says, ‘Call me if you change your mind, Charles. I’ll come and pick you up.’

*

** _[2029:08:007, Orion, Ymir System]_ **

Erik has seen several star-rises and star-sets on multiple planets across the galaxy-- all beautiful and special in their own ways. The horizon shines like a blanket sewn out of diamonds when its star comes up in the sky on Umbriel. On Kivuiq, the two events even occur simultaneously-- It’s first star sets in the sky as the second comes up. But none of those compare to Ymir rising on the horizon. It’s one of the many things Erik is going to miss about Orion.

The sky is a deep purple with woven wisps of pink outside the dock hanger. Ymir hasn’t risen yet, and in the absence of its warmth, the crisp air of dawn bites sharply against Erik’s skin as he walks towards the spaceship. Magneto stands majestically against the sky, matching the colour palette seamlessly.

A little voice inside his head that sounds suspiciously like Charles, teases him.  _ Really, Erik? Magenta?  _ Erik vehemently shakes his head, as if to shake off that voice. He doesn’t think he can hear it anymore. But it keeps coming back, and this time, it says,  _ You’d make an excellent interstellar lawyer.  _ Maybe, Erik would have made an excellent Interstellar lawyer, and maybe Charles would have been his then. But he isn’t one and there’s nothing that can be done about it. Just like there’s nothing to be done about the fact that he cannot stay on Orion any longer. The sooner he gets out of this planet, the better for him.

Az had run out in the middle of the night, citing that he’d had some business that had to be wrapped up. It’s already past five and the bastard still isn’t here. Cursing under his breath, Erik pulls out his comm from his pocket and calls him. Instead of connecting, it goes straight into the Setian’s inbox. 

‘Az,’ Erik hisses, and in the silence of dawn, his voice reverberates around the hanger. ‘Where the fuck are you? I’ve got everything from the warehouse loaded onto the ship. All that’s left to do is take off. If you don’t get your ass up here in the next fifteen minutes, I’m going to leave without you.’

‘And what about me?’ A voice comes from his right, and Erik snaps his head in the direction of its source so fast that his head whirls for a dizzying second at the force of it. Erik freezes, because standing a few feet away from him is Charles. 

Is he dreaming? Maybe he is. God knows when was the last time he slept, and he doesn’t remember when he last ate. Maybe this is his body’s way of torturing him for all the crimes he has inflicted upon it; its idea of a cruel joke to make his heart suffer in his stead by showing it what it cannot have. 

It’s only when Charles walks a little forward that reality lurches inside his head. ‘What about me?’ Charles asks firmly, ‘Were you going to leave me, too?’

Erik’s voice doesn’t cooperate with him, like his body chose this very day to protest against him. Charles’ eyes are puffed and red-rimmed, his breaths are coming in short pants and his cheeks and nose are pink from the cold breeze that’s blowing across his face. Charles looks worse than Erik’s probably looking right now and Erik’s heart stings. But the man standing in front of him is Charles. His Charl- Erik doesn’t dare complete that thought.

‘What are you doing here, Charles?’ Erik whispers after what feels like an eternity. 

‘I’m here to listen to what you have to say,’ Charles answers, and his voice wavers a little as he does.

Erik frowns. ‘You came here to listen to what I had to say? Didn’t you listen to my voice messages?’ he asks. 

It’s not that Erik didn’t find Charles attractive. With his bright, blue eyes and earnest smile, Charles is the most beautiful being Erik has seen in the galaxy. It’s not that Erik doesn’t love Charles either. Charles is brilliant, kind, honest, loyal and a good man. Anyone who cannot love him for whom he is, is a veritable asshole. But is Erik  _ in  _ love with Charles? That’s a different question altogether, and one Erik didn’t want to find the answer to. So he had pushed all the feelings labelled with Charles into a black box in his heart-- the same box that contained the memories of his parents-- never to see the light of day again. In his voice messages, Erik had torn his heart, opened that little box bare and had let his heart bleed.

‘No. I didn’t listen to any of them.’ Charles answers. ‘If you have something to tell me, then tell it to me.’ He points a finger at his chest. ‘Look me in the eye and tell it to me.’

Erik isn’t an optimistic like Charles. He has no illusions in his mind that Charles would still sympathise and forgive him after what he’d have to say. But if there was an ounce of truth to their friendship, then Charles deserves to know it, and Erik deserves the pain. He deserves every bit of it. So Erik speaks. He looks into Charles’ blue, blue eyes and spills his heart bare in front of his best friend. ‘You know, I’ve always hated Orion. Never liked it to begin with. But after every job, I would look forward to coming back home.’ He chuckles ruefully. ‘It’s funny because I didn’t even have a place to stay here. It was my home because of you, Charles, and I didn’t even realise it. Yes, I hated all your boyfriends. Not because they were all snobs, but because nobody truly understood you and none of them could make you smile like I did- the smile that lights your face when you speak for hours on genetics, or your favourite paperbacks, or your favourite brew of tea. I hated them all because they couldn’t make you truly happy.’

Erik takes a shuddering breath and continues. ‘Yes, I didn’t want to marry you. Not because I didn’t like you, but because I don’t deserve you, Charles. You’re brilliant, kind, loyal, brave and bright. You’re… You’re a star, Charles. And I’m just… the dust surrounding it. I didn’t want you to wake up one day and realise it. I don’t think I could live to see contempt for me in your eyes. Az keeps telling me that you’re perfect for me. You are. The only problem is that I’m not perfect for you. ’ A huff of laughter bubbles up his throat despite himself. ‘Space trash. That metaphor served me right after all, didn’t it?’ Moisture begins to collect at the corners of his eyes until Charles is just a blurry silhouette in front of him. Maybe it’s best this way, when Erik doesn’t have to see Charles wincing at his stupidity, at his incredulousness. 

‘I’m sorry, is all I can say. I promised you that you would never be alone, but here I am ready to put miles between us. I’m sorry for breaking that promise and hurting you. But I can’t live in a world where you’re not willing to talk to me, where you’re not even willing to look at me. It’s no more my home, Charles.’

Erik closes his eyes, and takes in a deep breath. The moisture spill from his eyes and warms his cheeks in rivulets. ‘I love you, Charles. And all I want is to see you happy.’

Erik opens his eyes just in time for Charles to slam into him. Charles winds his arms around Erik’s neck, tucks his face under his chin and clutches onto him tightly, all the while whispering a litany of ‘Erik’ and ‘you idiot’. Pulling back, Charles cups his face in the cradle of his palms. Charles’ cheeks are blotchy from the tears and his eyes are wild. In a wet voice, he says firmly, ‘You’re not... You’re not space trash, you idiot. You’re the centre of my world, Erik. You’re my universe, darling. Without you, my entire world would come crashing down. I love you, Erik.’

Erik doesn’t know who moves first, but their lips clash like two asteroids crashing in shallow space, determined to destroy the other completely. Erik wraps his arms around Charles’ waist and pulls him tight while Charles’ arms circle around Erik’s neck in a tight embrace. Their tongues, teeth and lips clash against each other’ and move to a rhythm of their own. It’s tender and wild and bitter and sweet. Even though, all Erik can taste is the saltiness of their tears, it’s just perfect. 

Behind them, the first Ymir rays crack through the thin veil of clouds and lights up the twilight sky. 

‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ Charles asks when they break for air.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘God, no. Stay, Erik,’ Charles says closing the space between them, and whispers into Erik’s lips, ‘Stay with me. Stay with your Charles.’ 

They kiss again, and it’s just as deep and magical as the previous one.

‘Wait,’ Erik asks when they part. ‘If you didn’t see my messages, how did you know to find me here?’

‘Raven, I believe we’ve wrapped up our business here, haven’t we?’ Az asks as he and Raven walk into the hanger. ‘I believe we have,’ Raven declares. 

Of course. He should have known. The huge smirks on both their faces are utterly intolerable. Erik scowls at them both. ‘Hey-’ Erik begins to say, only to be cut off by Charles, who pulls him down by the lapels of his leather jacket into another kiss.

Ymir shines a little brighter that day.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to everyone who read the fic or kudo-ed or commented!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Apart from Earth-616 and Orion, there's something common amongst all the other celestial bodies (planets, stars and satellites) mentioned throughout the fic. They, who is the first to name the common denominator shall win a drabble from me.  
Exciting times and exciting prizes!!! djjdmbutrfd
> 
> If you haven't already, please be sure to checkout the art for this fic by the amazing, **[ournextdoorneighbor](https://ournextdoorneighbor.tumblr.com)** **[here](https://ournextdoorneighbor.tumblr.com/post/188638024118/i-charles-francis-xavier-agree-to-marry-erik)**!!!
> 
> You might not win a drabble, but I'll be floored if you let me know what you think...  
Thank you so much for reading! :D  
P.S: [JackyJango](https://jackyjango.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


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